JA Criminal Consulting
by LaughingLefou
Summary: Sometimes, the thing that you're best at, isn't the thing you want to do. When one door closes, another one is opened, but where will it lead? (Multi-Author writing experiment. Ships and other genres unknown)
1. Chapter 1

**J.A. Criminal Consulting**

 **I**

* * *

It was over before it began.

His dream was over before it had a chance to take shape, shattered by nothing more than a piece of paper. He would never become a Huntsman. Never become a hero, never live up to his family name. He would never get the chance to perform great deeds and go down in legend. He felt sick, although whether it was from the cloud of depression hanging over head, or his eighth highball of rum and coke, he couldn't be sure. No doubt the pounding bass and blaring techno-music that permeated every inch of the nightclub wasn't helping.

Jaune Arc was rejected from Beacon Academy.

He should have been thankful that his forged transcripts didn't earn him a stay in a Valian prison. Instead he'd simply been sent the usual bog-standard letter with the Beacon Academy letterhead at the top, simply stating that he'd been refused from entering. So there he was, in Vale, sitting at the nearest bar he could find, trying to drown his sorrows. What did he do now? He had a sizable amount of Lien that wasn't being used for Beacon tuition in his account; the product of a few years of saving up allowances and gift money. He had more than enough to fly back home, yet he couldn't bring himself to do it.

How could he go back home and admit he'd failed? It would be an issue he'd tackle later. All he wanted to do was to get more hammered than a particularly stubborn nail. To get drunker than anyone ever had, so he could forget his crushing depression for just one night. He'd wake up the next morning and figure out what to do with his life from there. For now…

Jaune lifted the glass to his lips and drank from the blend of cola and mid-shelf rum. It was the only alcoholic drink he could stand; he wasn't much a drinker and the last time he'd tried whiskey at his father's offer, it was a wretched experience. He could already feel himself growing dizzy, his vision blurring causing the lights of the nightclub to blend together in a chaotic jumble, and the music was sounding more distant to him. Another drink. Why did he want to become a Huntsman anyway?

To follow in his family's footsteps? The same family that never treated him as anything more than a child? Maybe it was something else. A desire to leave behind a legacy. To be known for something. To go down in history. Jaune chuckled to himself, the sound lost amid the dancing and music. Perhaps being plastered was opening himself up to realizations, but the more he thought and mused upon it, the clearer it became. It wasn't for any altruistic reason; he just wanted to be known. He wanted to be respected and stop being a joke. Was it too much to ask to be respected? To be treated as something more than just the village idiot, or the baby brother who needed to be protected from everything lest he injure himself in his stupidity?

Another drink. Maybe it was for the best. He didn't know the first thing about fighting, and his body was only honed through what little farm work he'd done around the family home. While he dreamed of glory, he'd probably more likely end up dead in the belly of a Beowulf. What else could he do though? What was he good at? Nothing. He was good at nothing. He was an idiot teenager without any talents or skills. He sighed deeply. Another drink.

His glass was running empty, and his drinks were less rum and coke, and more rum and coke flavored ice water. The lights and music had somehow blended together to his senses, and he staggered to his feet, swaying like a plant in a gentle breeze. The movement reminded his body that his bladder was getting full, but the information took a significant amount of time to reach his alcohol addled brain. Long enough for him to cross the bar from his corner table, weaving drunkenly through the dancers. He approached the bar with his empty glass and placed it down on the counter, before the aforementioned information finally hit home. He had to piss, and _bad_.

Where was the bathroom again?

Once more, the young blond man drunkenly stumbled, this time toward the back of the bar. He threw open a door and stumbled inside…

* * *

"Junior?"

The ironically named mountain of a man glanced up with a dry 'hrm?'

"Never get married."

Silence. Then, "You aren't married, Roman."

Across from the bearded giant, a ginger haired man in a fancy suit and bowler hat, shook his head, leaning over the table. "Legally, no, but what else would you call being ordered around by a woman you'd planned to sleep with?"

"I'd call it being an idiot." Junior's gruff voice muttered, before turning his attention back to the table. Upon it sat a stack of papers, various blueprints of different buildings, each one marked with red pen.

 _Tap_.

Junior glanced up to see a thin blade glinting in the lamplight, laid across the table. His eyes followed it up to a gloved hand, and then to the petite woman it belonged to, glaring at him. "Keep your damn attack dog in line, Roman, or you can find someone else to bum help from." Junior muttered darkly, keeping his eyes locked onto the diminutive woman's gaze.

Roman sighed. "Neo, blade away. Junior is friends, not food." Neo sheathed her blade wordlessly, but continued to affix Junior with a look of displeasure. "I swear, Cinder is going to be the death of me, and I don't mean that figuratively. I _just_ got done with a heist, and she wants more Dust? I mean, sure, that one was a botched operation, but how the hell was I supposed to expect some little kid who ate her Pumpkin Pete's?"

Junior turned his attention back to Roman, his frown deepening. "You still owe me for the missing men."

Roman rolled his eyes. "Please, as though you're really hurting for help. Most of those men didn't have a lick of brains in their skulls anyway. You should be thanking me for weeding out the useless chaff."

"I don't hire them for their brains, and if my men keep getting arrested, it makes getting more harder. I'm not asking you to risk your life for them, but I'm tired of you coming back solo from every mission." Junior grumbled. Neo started, glaring at Junior once more, and from either side of Junior a pair of twin girls also stepped forward, glaring back at the petite woman. Simultaneously, Roman put an arm in front of Neo, and Junior held out a hand of his own, and all three women stopped.

"Fine, fine." Roman murmured, his attention more focused on the blueprints before him than the tension rising in the room. He stood up straight and turned sharply on his heel, spinning around to a whiteboard in the room with a crudely drawn map copied from the top blueprint. There were symbols and markings everywhere, labels off to the side in a key. "Look, this plan will be fine. We know the owner of this store has a hidden security button underneath the desk, so all we have to do is make sure he doesn't press it, and alert the authorities. Then again, I know that old fart, and the bastard never leaves that desk for anything...hm…" Roman stroked his chin, frowning. The petite woman walked up beside him, tilting her head in curiosity. "What do you think, Neo?"

Neo blinked and shrugged listlessly.

"...don't know what I expected." Roman murmured. "Junior? Your thoughts?"

Junior sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "How the hell should I know? I'm here to supply you muscle. I don't do heists."

Roman turned back to the table, followed by Neo, the former scowling. "Fat lot of help you are."

Melanie Malachite exchanged glances with her sister. Miltia Malachite rolled her eyes in silent communication, and the twins shook their head in tandem. Despite being far in the back of the building, the pounding bass of the DJ could still be heard and felt. Miltia turned to look over her shoulder, glancing at the door, wondering if it had been left open-

...and froze.

"Uh, Junior?" Miltia spoke up, her tone confused.

"Hang on," Junior murmured, shuffling through the blueprints.

"Junior?"

"I said hold on!" Junior muttered, more forcefully.

Miltia watched, as a tall, thin blond boy wearing an awkward combination of armor and a hoodie, stumbled around a bit, glancing around. Judging just by the far away, unfocused gaze, even she could tell he was five sheets to the wind. He stumbled over to a potted plant that Junior kept in the corner of his office, and that's when she heard the sound of a zipper. She continued watching, agape with shock at the sheer audacity of it all, as the blond boy proceeded to urinate onto the plant. She turned back to the table, where now everyone, her sister included, were all leaning over the blueprints.

"Do you think you could fool him into thinking that someone needs help?" Melanie asked.

"No." Roman groaned. "Neo and I have our faces plastered all over Vale, and Junior's men have a distinct uniform. Old bastard would know it was us the moment we stepped foot into view."

"What about sniping him from long distance?" Junior suggested. "There's a building with a decent vantage point from across the street."

Roman's face scrunched up in distaste. "Not that I've ever been one to shy away from violence, but I hate leaving a body behind. Murder tends to get more Huntsmen involved, and I'd prefer to deal with the Vale police, rather than a bunch of brats with their Aura unlocked, and high-tech weaponry."

"Guys?" Miltia once more spoke up, hesitantly.

"You? Not leave bodies behind?" scoffed Junior. "I figured that tiny psychopath of yours would jump at the chance to slit a few throats."

Roman put a hand to his chest. "Junior! I can't believe you'd say such things! You'll hurt poor Neo's feelings." As if on cue, Neo gave a theatrical and overly dramatic swoon, caught by Roman who shook his head. "Look at her."

Junior rolled his eyes. "Look, do you want my help with this or not? I should be behind my bar."

"Oh please, like you'd rather tend bar for a bunch of Beacon brats rather than work with us. Neo might be a tad bloodthirsty, but would you rather a repeat of the blond bitch who came in her last week?"

Junior rankled, growling. "Don't remind me." He spat between clenched teeth, the pen in his hand snapping under the strain it was under.

Miltia turned around once more to try and stop the blond boy, and found the potted plant alone once more. She quickly glanced around, trying to find where he'd gone to, only to spot the lanky lad now making his way to the whiteboard. He stood before it, swaying in place for a few seconds, before grabbing one of the markers and proceeding to write upon the whiteboard. "Guys?!" she called once more, stepping back from the table to walk over to him, starting to get over her initial shock of seeing a random civilian in Junior's office.

"Aw, what's the matter Junior?" Roman teased, grinning wickedly, "Don't tell me you got distracted by some young cleavage and she kicked your ass for it?"

"Roman, do **not** push your luck…" Junior warned, narrowing his eyes as his hand dipped below the table for what was obviously his weapon.

"Or what?" Roman sneered back, a click sounding as Neo unsheathed a portion of her blade.

" _ **GUYS!**_ " Miltia shouted.

"What?!" Junior and Roman shouted back, simultaneously, both turning to glare at the twin.

Silently, Miltia motioned to the whiteboard, and the room was filled with the squeak of marker on whiteboard. Slowly, the occupants around the table turned, to notice a tall blond boy standing with a hand on his hip, marker in other hand. He made a couple more marks, then turned around, still swaying in place. "Taa-daa~!" He slurred. "I fixed it!"

Four pairs of eyes blinked back incredulously. As if he felt his explanation wasn't getting through, the boy continued. "It- _hic_ -it wash all wrooong!" he continued to slur. "Soooo, I fixed it!" The boy gestured wildly to the board which was now marked up.

Neo was the first to recover, and promptly strode across the room swiftly, her parasol handle extending out and down, hooking the boy by the ankle and tripping him. He hit the ground with a thud, groaning. The petite woman unsheathed her blade fully, and pointed it at him, bringing the tip of the shining weapon to the boy's eye. So drunk was he, that the action barely seemed to register, and he simply stared at the weapon with a confused expression. Neo tensed up, preparing to run the boy through-

"Hang on a minute…" Roman murmured, walking to the whiteboard. Neo paused, blinking as she watched Roman leaning close to the board. "What the hell…" Roman whispered.

"Who the hell is that?" Junior snapped.

"I was trying to tell you!" Miltia shot back. "He just walked in here, pissed in the plant in the corner and started marking up the board!"

Roman suddenly stood up, snapping his fingers. "Of course! How didn't I see it?!"

"Huh?" Junior, Miltia and Melanie all asked at once, turning their attention from the boy to Roman.

"We fake a fire using a little red Dust! Old bastard rushes to go put it out, leaves his desk, we swoop in, take him hostage, rob the place dry and hightail it out of there before anyone's the wiser!" Roman looked down at the blond boy. "I gotta hand it to you, I'm impressed!"

"Huh?" One Jaune Arc muttered, still staring cross-eyed at Neo's blade hovering mere centimeters from his head.

Junior glanced at the board, blinking. "Hang on, that's what the kid drew?" The board now had a crudely drawn fire on it, followed by arrows pointing to the fire extinguisher near the front of the store. He scratched his beard and nodded. "That...that actually could work. As long as you remain hidden before he goes to put out the fire…" Junior turned back to Jaune, surprise in his gaze.

Neo tilted her head, glancing puzzled at Roman. Roman, in turn, shook his head. "Nah. Leave him. Look at him." Neo turned to glance down at Jaune. "Kid's so plastered he probably won't remember who we are, much less what happened tonight." Roman turned once more on his heel, making his way for the door. "I'll pay off the kids tab. Least I can do for the idea. Neo? We've got a heist to plan."

Neo, with a vaguely disappointed look on her face, shrugged and sheathed her blade, quickly catching up to Roman and following him out the door, leaving Junior, Melanie, Miltia, and one _very_ drunk Jaune Arc behind.

There was silence.

"Huh." Junior was the first to break it.

"What?" Miltia turned to Junior.

"Kid's more sauced than an Alfredo plate, and yet he waltzes in here, pisses in my plant and cracks this heist in seconds." Junior stroked his chin in thought. "You two. Drag the kid into the back room, and let him sleep things off."

"Wait, why?" Miltia responded, cocking an eyebrow.

"Remember what I told you about assets?"

The twins looked at one another, falling silent in thought. Melanie spoke up first. "Never pass up the chance to acquire more?"

Junior nodded. "And sometimes, it's worth it to take a risk on one. Call me crazy," Junior looked back down at the blond boy, who was now passed out on the cold cement ground, "but I got a good feeling about this one…"

* * *

 **A/N: Before anyone yells at me, no, this isn't another story,** _ **per se**_ **. This is more of a writing experiment for the Work In Progress Server. What this is, is a story written by multiple authors who have no idea where the story is going, and are only working off of what has been written before hand. Will this be silly? Will this be serious? Will Jaune end up with anyone? Who knows? I've set the stage, and now it's up to fellow authors to carry this story. Each chapter will be written by a new author, who will be taking the story in their chosen direction.**

 **Who knows what kind of chaos this will spawn?**


	2. Vomit, Bullets, and Bears Oh My

**J. A.** **Criminal Consultant**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Vomit, Bullets, and Bears… Oh My**

* * *

 **By quijibo7609**

* * *

Hei Xiong hit the wall just as the door jamb exploded in a spray of splinters and dust round fragments. Aura saved him from the cuts that should have been caused by flying debris, but that didn't make the huge man any less pissed though. He was even angrier than when that blonde bimbo grabbed him by the dick. Mostly at himself.

Junior should have known someone would try something. Three weeks ago, Blondie had done a number on The Club. Admittedly, no one wanted to tangle with a Huntsman or a Huntress if it could be avoided. These were men and women who stood toe to toe against the darkness which infected Remnant. That meant they were insanely powerful people with more than a few loose screws. Blondie though had grabbed him by the dick and then slugged him in the face. In his own club. The Red Axes would not let that slide… but they should have. They really should have. That bitch had smashed through a huge chunk of his crew, mostly because she could. Many of his guys had never come back afterwards, and Junior had trouble blaming them. Fuck, even his DJ was still laid up at home. Any ganglander would have smelled the blood in the water. Add to that farce the mounting losses caused by Torchwick's heists, and someone was going to assume he was ripe for a takeover.

The Snick-Snick of dust rounds being pumped into a shotgun sounded in the hall. Not a pleasant sound when you weren't the guy holding the gun. It was still more comforting than the mad giggles of the crazed idiot wielding the damned thing. Fuck, how had he let himself become this hideously vulnerable? So vulnerable the Gods-damned-idiotic-dust-addicts in the Bowery Boys thought they could make a move. So vulnerable, it looked like they weren't going to be proved wrong on that score.

If this happened at any other time, Junior would have been standing over Duncan's corpse in about five minutes. Bertie 'Slim' Duncan was a simple stain by underworld standards. He was grossly annoying, hard to get rid of, and ruining something expensive by his mere existence. However, that stain had hit Junior at the worst possible moment.

At night The Club was still a fortress, in the broad daylight though? Well around this time, most of Junior's crew on hand were exactly what they seemed. They were waiters, barmen, janitors, etc. The people that Junior needed for the place to operate. Yeah some had guns, a few had axes, and they all wore their suits, but they weren't muscle. A guy who broke legs for a living was usually shit at anything else. They even made terrible bouncers since they were prone to excess. Junior's real muscle, were busy doing other stuff during the day. Some were with Torchwick, as he explained their next heist, but most were outside keeping the neighborhood in line. The Red Axes needed to be seen since too damned many were sitting in the VPD (Vale police Department) lock-up. Naturally, there were still a few in The Club as well, but since Mel and Mil were here (they were worth ten goons each), Junior had cut a few corners. The Blondie inspired exodus had them spread damned thin after all.

Too thin. Thin enough Junior was probably going to end up dying to a bunch of dust freaks spun out of their gourds. Who would have thought these idiots had even heard of a scroll scrambler?

The shotgun wielding Bowery Boy grinned like a maniac flying high on dust injections. Doubtlessly because the fucker actually was a maniac flying high on dust injections. He leveled the gun. He was still grinning when Miltia ripped straight though the plaster wall behind him and gutted the shithead through his spinal column. The Bowery was dead before he even hit the ground. Bastard probably never even felt it. More's the pity. Miltia flicked blood and worse off her claws. She snarled with satisfaction, but Junior saw a bit of hopelessness in her expression. She knew the odds, same as him. She fully expected she was going to die, the only question was how many assholes she dragged into the afterlife with her. Junior used Millie face to fuel his hate. Hate made you strong.

"You good Mil?" Junior saw a nasty cut over her right eye that wasn't closing. She was obviously almost out of aura.

"Fucking peachy Hei," she growled, making for the corner and the cover it provided. She wouldn't make it.

A rabbit faunus, his ears poked out through his ludicrous top hat, pulled a submachine gun. He drew a bead on Miltia who was now caught too far out in the open. She did the only thing she could, try and close on the bastard and hope her aura held out long enough. Most bosses would use their bodyguards to sneak off. Junior wasn't most bosses, not when it came to the twins. Junior, all seven feet of him, roared and he charged. He wouldn't lose Millie to a twat wearing a hat that stupid.

The crazed faunus, as dust fried as any Bowery Boy could ever hope to be, giggled at Junior. Using the SMG, he tried and spray them both. Junior took one in the leg that his aura just couldn't quite stop. Miltia took one in the head and went down like a house of cards. Junior screamed his rage. Millie's Top Hatted killer squealed in glee at his kill, barely noticing seven feet of Hei 'Junior' Xiong bearing down on him. He did flash Junior a smile, which caused Junior to briefly wonder what the dust freak was seeing in his drugged out haze.

The dust addict tried to spray Miltia's body with more rounds, Gods only knew why, Junior crushed the Bowery's wrist in his grasp. Didn't really faze the fucker who kept on grinning, but it felt cathartic to Junior all the same. He then grabbed the SMG and proceeded to make a general mess of things. The bastard's blood ended up splattering all over the wall. At least five feet in any given direction.

Junior ripped the reloads of the dead rabbit's belt, reloading the gun. It was a cheap thing, for a cheap thug. Junior thought of his beloved rocket launcher. _Really should have called it 'Last Call_ ,' he lamented. It would have been fitting. Would have been much cooler to go out holding a rocket launcher. Junior could hear Duncan's Vacuan drawl, the cowardly bastard was that close, but still out of sight. The leader of the two bit gang kept bellowing orders at the morons who worked for him. Good luck with that, getting a bunch of spun out dust freaks to do anything with any coordination was even less easy than it sounded. Still, the Bowery's had the numbers tonight, and sling enough dust around, eventually they'd put Junior down.

Millie moaned and Junior sighed. It might have been kinder if she had died right there. She crawled to her knees. When she looked at him, Junior reconsidered. Kinder to the Bowerys. Junior had seldom seen such homicidal rage.

Well, only one thing left to do. Since Junior was going to die tonight, he might as well take that fucker with him. Miltia's expression silently agreed.

* * *

 **Five Minutes Earlier**

* * *

The blond idiot was probably experiencing his first ever hang over. It looked every bit the joy one would expect from a lightweight who had tried to drown his sorrows in alcohol. Melanie wasn't particularly impressed. Probably because nothing about this noodle of a boy was particularly impressive. What had Junior been thinking? What had he been drinking?

Vomit-Boy retched yet again.

Well okay the amount of vomit he was pumping into that bear head was pretty impressive. That idiot DJ, who called himself W.E. for some reason, wore the stupid thing while doing his shtick on stage. Bastard was still at home. Come one, it had been three weeks already. What's with leaving other people to pick up the slack? There was no way in hell that Melanie was going to get that thing cleaned up. Should make for a memorable return when W.E. finally dragged his ass back to work. Mel smiled, served the jerk-off right for milking it. Vomit-Boy might not be as completely useless as she suspected after all.

"You almost done, Vomit-Boy?" Melanie asked as she informed him of his new nickname.

Vomit-Boy was too distracted to answer the question directly. He said something rather tempting instead. "Somebody please kill me." More wet glopping sounds. Not the most pleasant of noises. It was tempting, it really was tempting.

"I'll consider it, but Junior wants to talk to you about something before it comes to that." Melanie shrugged, "I'll be sure to mention you asked though." He looked at her, though Melanie was pretty sure he couldn't see anything with his eyes streaming tears like they were.

A man on his knees, eyes full of tears, and begging for death usually put Melanie in a good mood. Instead she felt pensive. At first she thought it was the vomit, but it unfortunately came with the territory in this business. Then Melanie recognized a familiar popping sound, and that became the focus of her attention. There were a few more faint pops. Mel cocked her head. Vomit-Boy didn't notice of course. The Club had gone silent. The Club was never silent.

It was a bit past noon. Much too early for the Club to be open. A lot of the crew was already here though. There was plenty to do since they were understaffed. Most of those that didn't have a criminal record, and thus could get a job elsewhere, had decided to do so after that Blonde Bitch ripped through The Club. The fewer people meant the prep staff had to start earlier. Right now Melanie should be hearing the sound clanking dishes, food being prepped, cleaning, deliveries, etc.

Here now, the Club had just gone silent. Mel suddenly realized why. The silence was that of everyone hearing a noise they well understood, trying to discern where it was coming from, and then quickly exiting in the opposite direction. Which meant the popping sounds were being leveled at The Club. Which meant someone was making a play.

More popping. Melanie pulled out her scroll. No signal. They were being jammed. Melanie nodded slowly as she stood up. Well, at least she had her dancing shoes on.

Jaune was having a miserable… he looked at his scroll… noontime. He just kept throwing up in… he glanced at his chosen receptacle… bear head? What the actual heck? All while some crabby girl dressed in white insulted him. For whatever reason he had a sense of déjà vu. The girl was cute though… maybe he should ask her out. Dad said all you needed was confidence. _Hey there angel!_

He got a whiff of the bear head and suddenly felt like he was going to blow again. He tried to back away slowly from it. He was sitting in a corner, so the plan didn't work out so well. The crabby girl became agitated for some reason. She was obviously listening for something. When she suddenly spun and went down, it didn't look intentional. Which was weird.

About that time Jaune heard something explode right beside him. Jaune was a little out of it and was a lot hung over, but even he knew what he just heard. He spun as a tall guy stormed into the room. Guy was huge, at least half a head taller than Jaune, and much broader in proportion.

"Hey Boys! Found the white one!"

Jaune watched the cranky angel spring back to her feet. There was a smoking hole in her blouse. Was she shot? Was she okay? Wait! If she got shot, where was the blood? Maybe she had a vest on.

"Peewee Duncan," Crabby growled. "So where's your little bitch of a brother hiding?"

"Cousin darlin'," the guy drawled. "Slim ain't my brother."

Crabby shrugged, "Eh, my mistake. I just assumed your family tree didn't have many forks in it." Crabby eyes were hard, "Where's he at?"

The tall dude leveled two large revolvers, each in fists the size of small hams, at the poor woman. "Oh ya' know, he's not one for the fightin'. Me now, well I like punchin' holes in things," he waggled his mono-brow, "If ya get my meanin' and just want to come back quiet like."

Crabby looked at him, "Punching holes in things? That's the best rape innuendo you could come up with? You really are a special class of stupid aren't you?"

Peewee Duncan shrugged. He then thumbed back the hammers on his revolvers. Suddenly, his face disappeared in a cascade of vomit as a backwards facing bear head was dropped on him. It was a toss-up who was the most surprised Jaune, Peewee, or the crabby angel who had just been shot. But, Crabby sure reacted first. She ran straight at the big man.

Peewee wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Unlike most guys on the dull side, at least he knew he was slow on the uptake. He got his place working for his cousin by being mean, nasty, and fearless. So that was what he did for his cousin, be mean, nasty, and fearless. He had noticed the kid in the hoody. The kid was wearing armor of all things, so he stood out. The guy triggered a zero on his threat meter though. Peewee had seen kittens with meaner faces. The Malachite sister though? Well that was all kinds of dangerous. Which was why he called more Boys to back him up.

Then the foulest smelling thing ever was dumped over his head. Peewee wasn't exactly sure what it was, although puke was definitely part of it, but it turned the lights out sure enough. He knew how badly he messed up. First by letting the kid drop this, whatever it is on his head. The second mistake was to immediately reach to pull the thing off his head and then shoot the jerk who put it there. Moving his hands had spoiled his aim, so when he heard the tap of steel tipped shoes charging him, his guns weren't still pointing at the Malachite. He fired blind anyways, you could always get lucky after all, but it just wasn't to be.

He felt one of her shoes rip his knee apart. Hurt like hell. Wish Slim had been able to find a guy to unlock their auras. Would have helped. He had always heard it felt really nice too. He already knew he was never going to find out. Something passed under chin, her other shoe probably. His chest got hot and damp. That was that. He knew it.

Wonder what that kid in the hoodie dropped over my head. Then he felt himself topple, but he never landed.

* * *

Jaune watched the girl in white kill the man. One second the huge guy had been standing there, threatening something awful that Jaune could not let stand, then Jaune had dropped the bear head on the man. The guy still tried to shoot her, despite obviously not being able to see, but he missed. Then she just killed him. One foot flicked at his legs, and then she completed the pirouette, and her other foot passed under the guys chin.

Blood fountained in both places. The guy hit the floor, twitched a few times, and then didn't move. Jaune gaped. Someone else howled. Three other guys, all armed with guns, burst in. They were shooting, and thus Jaune dove behind the door. The crabby girl didn't. Her face was filled with manic glee.

She danced and spun around all three men. Two guys went down in less than fifteen seconds. Jaune knew they weren't going to rise again. The third knew it too. Jaune now realized, somewhat belatedly, Crabby's shoes had knives on them. Her knee high boots were now stained red from the calf down. She suddenly looked more like a cloven-hooved demon than an angel to Jaune.

The last man standing was panicking. He tried to retreat, but the demon in white was not going to let him. She trapped the guy's arm, yanking on it and pulling him forward. Off balance, the guy could do nothing against the devastating spinning kick she landed on his nose, which exploded so violently Jaune thought she had stabbed him in the face. She hadn't though. Jaune was soon to find out why.

The kick had completely laid the man out on the floor. Slowly, deliberately, she jammed a bladed heel into each of the guy's shoulders. He screamed. Her smile did not waver. Jaune incidentally wondered if she realized something important. With her standing over him like like that, the guy could obviously see up her skirt. Maybe it didn't matter.

"Unfortunately for you, you don't look very high right now." Jaune and the violently bleeding man were both confused by Crabby's words.

"What?" Jaune asked. The demon looked at him, winked of all things, and then went back to guy on the floor.

"If you had shot up, this wouldn't hurt nearly so bad," the demon lifted her foot out from one shoulder, then drove it through his bicep. "But you didn't, so you really can feel this moment. You know?" She pulled out her other boot, and drove it through his other bicep. Her smile was frightening. "Now you're going to tell me where that Slim is hiding, or you're going to die wishing you had. Your choice."

The now violently bleeding man, "You're just going to kill me anyways." The demon smiled like she agreed. She started to shift her weight. That was a stupid mistake in Jaune's opinion.

Jaune spoke for the demon, "No she won't." The demon and the bleeding man looked at him confused. Jaune felt a sense of calm enter his mind. He saw the answer, he could help both parties reach common ground. In a very real way, they could both get what they wanted. Because of this Jaune continued. "If you tell her exactly what she wants to know, I will personally carry you out back, dial the local hospital, and leave you with the phone so you can tell them where you are. I won't promise you anything else, but that is what we are willing to offer for your cooperation." The man blinked, not sure how to respond, so Jaune reminded him of an important fact. "You have ten seconds to start talking, and please bear in mind you are already bleeding rather badly and time is of the essence."

The guy nodded, and started speaking. Quickly too.

* * *

Junior suddenly heard Slim cussing up a storm. There was a loud thud, and then Junior heard the man start screaming in panic. Slim was even closer than Junior would have guessed, probably hoping for a chance to stare Junior in the eyes before the death blow fell. Stupid move, from a stupid man. Gods bless you Melanie he thought. That girl really was something special. How she located the bastard this quickly was a mystery, but Junior knew it couldn't be anything less.

The jabbering idiots that had him pinned, started growing much more sporadic in their fire. They knew someone was behind them now. Dazed and bleeding, Millie nodded wearily at Junior. From her vantage point, she had a better view. She made the call. Junior trusted her and didn't hesitate. He just moved. Miltia opened up with her last clip in the SMG. Junior, now holding two cheap dust pistols, little better than pop guns, fired both weapons dry as he charged. One of Miltia's rounds took a shooter in head as he stuck it around the corner at the wrong time. Another waited a second, knowing Hei's bulk would keep him from getting supporting fire for very long. Then the smarter of the two stepped around the corner, unloading a blast with a sawed off shot gun as he did so. Junior had just enough aura to weather the first shot. However, the crackle around him told Junior he had nothing left and the bastard still had one more barrel. He fired with glee. Click. Junior could not believe his good luck, or maybe it was the Bowerys bad luck, but either way Hei wasn't going to question it. He reached the fucker who had very nearly killed him. Hei gleefully wrenched the gun away from the Bowery, pulling the bastard's arm straight out of its socket while doing so. Even a dust fiend could feel that. That was a comforting thought as Junior split the Bowery's head open with the butt of his own shotgun.

Unfortunately when he looked up, there were two other Bowery Boys pointing their weapons right at him. Junior knew they had been encircled, but hoped the circle wasn't really enforced. Oh well, at least it sounded like Mel was going to get Slim. That was something.

"Junior?" Slim's nervous voice carried from just beyond the corner. He did not sound like a man who was having it all go his own way. He sounded like someone who was two seconds from shitting himself to be honest.

"Yeah Slim? I'm guessing you just met Mel."

Junior could hear him swallow from here, Junior drew power from that sound. Slim didn't answer, Mel did. She was breathing hard, but her voice was clear. "Yeah we just met, things are a bit tense. Is Miltia okay?"

Millie heard the concern in Mel's voice, so she answered. "Been better. You?"

"Same. Sorry, I didn't get here sooner. I did kill that dipshit Peewee on the way though. I hope that counts for something." Junior winced, Mel really sounded like she was in pain.

Slim gurgled, but if Slim was letting people talk to each other, then Mel had him dead to rights.

"What's the situation Mel?" Junior asked, twitchy drug fiends were pointing guns at him after all.

A new voice answered for her. "Mel? Your name's Mel? Don't look at me like that! I was just asking!" Junior blinked, who the fuck was talking? "Anyways Mel took a blast to her chest and probably has bruised ribs or something so let me fill you in. Mel and I were together when the attack started. After dealing with this big guy named Peewee, she and I climbed out a window to a fire escape. She said the scroll jamming didn't extend outside, so she got through to a couple of guys and help is on the way. However, she said couldn't wait around since there wasn't much between you, her sister, and the umm… fuckers attacking you. Sorry, her words. So she attacked… Slim I think… from behind. I was busy carrying a guy to a safe place so he could call an ambulance, so I missed what happened next, but I think she killed two of his guards, one of which shot her before he died, and then beat Slim up pretty good. Mel, right now, has a rather sharp heel at his throat." Junior smiled, damned he was proud of her. The voice continued, "Unfortunately she was interrupted and there are now… one-two-three-four… seven more guys in the room who are planning to kill her if she kills their boss. I think that just about covers it. Is your situation any better?"

Junior decided this wasn't the time to bluff. Men on the way was good, but probably too late. Still it was one more thing for all to think about. "Not appreciably, no. We're pretty much surrounded." Junior answered with a sigh.

The voice sighed loudly. Really loudly since he had to project that sigh down the hall. "That is a disappointment, but I figured. I kind of think there is only one way out of this."

Mel asked something Junior couldn't make out. Then she howled, not a real good idea given the circumstances. All the freaks were twitchy enough. "You're doing what?!"

"Calling the police." The other voice was almost too soft for Junior to hear, but he knew Mel would likely be able to hear it just fine.

"Are you crazy?" Junior yelled.

"No. This seems like the best option."

Junior was aghast, "How is everyone going to prison for the rest of their life a good option?"

The voice was infuriatingly calm, "I did not say it was a good option, just the best option." The voice took a moment, "the other option, the one you seem to prefer, means a whole lot more people die."

Junior blinked, when put like that, the voice kind of had a point.

* * *

Jaune was hunkered down behind some tables. Almost casually, more like it was an expected thing to do than because it offered him much protection. Jaune wondered briefly if he had gone insane. He was covered in blood, chiefly from carrying a rather heavy man a rather long distance. Jaune really had no idea why he went back inside. Maybe it was just morbid curiosity. His life, or the one he always wanted, was basically over before it had begun so it wasn't like he was risking a lot. Jaune smiled at his mental gallows humor.

Following Mel had been relatively easy. There were only two turns from where she re-entered the building and both had been marked by a very dead man. Jaune thought they were in some kind of VIP room. Jaune guessed that because the furniture was nicer and dance floor smaller. Across from him, a bunch of armed men and one very violent woman stood on that smaller dance floor. Everyone knew he was here, but no one really seemed to care so it must be okay. They had her surrounded, and she had their boss literally a step away from death. At least everyone was talking, so there was that.

Jaune was pretty sure he was in shock. He wasn't sure how shock worked, but he's seen a few movies and he guessed this feeling is what they were trying to portray. It explained why he was keeping calm instead of falling apart.

Jaune breathed deep, reinforcing that calm. He focused on the fact that he knew he was right. He saw an answer. If they listened to him, no one else was going to die. He could be a hero.

"First off, Mel called you Junior. May I?" Jaune shouted politely down the hall.

A pause. "I guess."

"Thank you." Jaune breathed deep again, there really was something soothing in the action. "So I'm pretty sure you were attacked in your home by people carrying guns. I'm not a lawyer but that seems like self-defense to me. I imagine the fall out won't be pleasant, but I'm almost positive whatever charges stick to you won't be related to this. More likely the charges will be related to the subsequent investigation as the police comb through the headquarters of a well-known gang." There was strangled noises from down the hall, that didn't sound like Jaune had convinced him, but he wasn't trying to yet. "Mr. Slim though would probably go to prison. There is a lot of dead people and he was in charge after all. I imagine, you'd make sure he wouldn't last long inside." Jaune had seen a few documentaries on prison, so he felt some confidence in making this guess.

"Damned straight!" Junior roared from down the hall.

"Like I'm just going to lay here and wait for the cops!" Slim shouted from his place at Mel's feet. Jaune thought Slim sounded weak. Probably so did his men. That helped, it meant Junior was the only one who really needed to be convinced.

Jaune spoke to Slim, "You might want to reconsider that statement. If you do, you could probably turn over evidence on Junior. I imagine you have history if you're willing to go through all this. That history and you testimony might get you protective custody in prison. A cell all to yourself, where Junior can't reach you. You'd be able to catch up on your reading. Won't do your men very much good. Junior will probably be pretty vindictive about this and take steps wherever he can, but it would give you a fighting chance to live out your life out in isolation at least." Now Slim's men eyed their boss wearily. Well the ones who weren't whacked out on drugs anyways.

Jaune let the doubt settle before making a play, "At least 'the everybody goes to prison option' is a little better than 'everyone dies right now option'… of course there is option three…"

Slim and Junior asked at the same time. "What's option three?"

"Well we need to eliminate Junior and Slim from the picture, then this can all be resolved fairly simply." Jaune answered simply.

Slim and Junior again answered in chorus, "WHAT!?"

"I am proposing that Slim and Junior each leave the building." Jaune smiled at the elegant solution he had come up with. "Slim will first order the scroll jamming to be ceased. Mel can verify he does this. Junior can then order his reinforcements, using his scroll's loudest speaker setting of course, to let Slim pass because an agreement had been reached. Slim's men can verify that. Then Junior puts down his scroll, and immediately exits out the back. As an aside Junior, please don't kill the man bleeding in the alley, he and I have a previous agreement. The bleeding man does have a scroll, so Slim is going to have to be quick with the next part. Once Junior steps outside, Slim leaves through the front door. I'd honestly start running immediately. You see, I'll shortly be leaving myself. I promise you all exactly five minutes to work it all out, then I will call the police from a scroll I got from this dead guy who no longer needs it. Everyone should be able to scatter before they arrive."

Junior shouted, "No deal!" Jaune sighed, he hated holdouts.

Jaune asked the obvious, "Do you have a better option? Mel seems pretty competent. Pretty sure she knows what to do if you were ever raided. Five minutes is a long time. I mean this place will close while there is an investigation, probably have the police come calling and take you in for questioning, but you have lawyers and no one reliable is going to place you here."

Junior shouted, "There are bodies! The investigation will take months. This place might never open again!"

Jaune again said the obvious, "You will have the chance to rebuild though. This solution costs you, at most, a building. Not too high a price tag for both your life and your freedom if you ask me. Granted, this has cost you big, I know that, but there is no way to resolve this problem without costing you something more. A building is practically a bargain when you think about the alternatives." Jaune thought of something, "I know times look tough short-term, but I'd also highly recommend giving Mel a raise as soon as you're able to. Her quick thinking led to these negotiations being on favorable terms for your organization." Jaune felt giddy. He felt like he was channeling one of those legal shows his mom always watched. Also, he was stopping more people from dying. This really was heroic in its own way. Right?

Slim then said, "If Junior walks away from this, he's gunna come for me."

"Damned right" Junior yelled from down the hall. Jaune sighed, Junior was too angry to negotiate properly.

Jaune told Slim what anyone with common sense would. "Duh." Slim gurgled at him, but Jaune explained using small words, "You just tried to kill him in his home. It was succeed or bust, and you didn't succeed. You may have cost him some business and hurt his reputation, but you were never going to win unless you killed him. You can't do that now and stay alive." Slim's face hardened, but Jaune saw it as a bluff. An easy one to see through and Jaune explained why, "Your men don't really want to die for you, and by my estimation, Mel will kill at least four more before she goes down." This was straight bull since there was no way Jaune could determine how it would go down, but Jaune guessed neither could Slim or his men. "There is an excellent chance that if you give that order, they'll decide living is the better option and the only one that dies would be you. Now, in the future, there is also an excellent Junior will come to kill you. What I offer is a very slim chance of evading that. That chance centers on the fact that Mel made it sound like you were a pretty small fish. I've certainly never heard of you," Jaune was from Ansel and had never heard of Junior either to be honest, but that wasn't something Slim needed to know. "Junior though, is someone that will generate headlines. Because of that, Junior is going to be the first and primary target the police will be gunning for. That should give you a decent head start." Jaune thought for a moment, "If you want one more recommendation, I'd go back to Vacuo if I were you. Your accent won't stand out as much and it will be awhile before Junior can reach you there. Plus when he starts trying, Junior's goons will stick out like a sore thumb there."

Jaune breathed deep again, then addressed the room at large, "If you let Mel and her sister go about their business, I promise they won't be looking for reprisals. Pretty sure anyone who tried to shoot her is dead or in a lot of pain, guessing her sister is much the same in this regard, so it wouldn't be personal. Plus they're going to be busy shoring up their defenses for a little while anyways." Even the addicts looked hopeful with that last tidbit. "You agree Mel?"

She looked at him and winked, "Deal."

Jaune breathed deep again, it really did fell soothing. Slim's guys almost completely relaxed. Jaune smiled for the room. "That's the options as I see them ladies and gentlemen," Jaune nodded to Mel, who nodded back. "I'll be leaving now. The call will be going out in five minutes. I look forward to learning about your decision while watching the news report."

* * *

Three hours later Melanie, Miltia, and Junior were holed up in one of Junior's warehouses. The room was filled with hope and tragedy. The air people breathed when they know they had escaped with their lives, but were mourning what they had lost.

At least Junior's alibi was pat. Officially he had been ocean fishing with a half dozen guys. All day too, since it was one of his good friend's bachelor parties. Said bachelor had indeed been doing just that since early this morning. It was perfect, although Junior had never heard of a bachelor party without strippers. The alibi was contained and airtight.

The bachelor was on Vale's zoning council and owed Junior for convincing pesky residents to bow to rules of imminent domain without Vale having to go through the expensive legal hassle. Several residents. Nearly two hundred all told. This favor would square both their ledgers nicely. All Junior had to do was meet the guy, Richards, at the docks before anyone found him, then willingly surrender to Vale Police, and keep his story consistent after he 'learned' of the tragedy. Mille and Mel were planning to surrender later that evening, the wounds on a healthy percentage of the bodies were too consistent with their known weapons. They were pleading self-defense. Junior had his lawyer already setting the groundwork for their surrender, and Junior was willing to grease whatever wheels he could to keep them out on bail. If they stuck through this with him, he'd bring them up as partners. The kid was right, both girls had done one hell of a job and they deserved a real shot at leading.

With Junior's alibi set, the twins' legal defense taking shape, Junior would have a solid chance to rebuild. All he had to do was keep his head down and his nose clean during this next stretch of heat. There was one rather large problem though.

Junior's chief client had a say in whatever Hei did next.

Junior doubted Torchwick was going to be happy. Junior didn't know the details, but Roman was running ragged trying to get whatever dust he could scrape together. Which doubtlessly meant the thief was facing a deadline. Given Torchwick's edginess (Pyscho or not, Neo had never felt the need to flex on the twins before last night), and the fact the thief had started smoking again, Roman's deadline was probably a literal thing. Nothing worse than a capable and violent person backed into a corner. Because, you know, someone had to be capable of backing said violent person into that corner in the first place.

Junior was done hesitating and made the call. Roman picked up on the first ring. " _Hei my friend. I see you had a little trouble today."_ Junior could tell he was on speaker. That complicated matters, since Hei doubted Roman would be volunteering the names of whoever was listening in on the call.

"More than a little." Junior paused as he set down the scroll, putting it on speaker himself, then he continued. "Let's just say we're reshaping our organizational structure and certain commitments aren't going to be met."

" _Shh… Neo, stay calm. Don't worry, I'm sure he doesn't mean us. I KNOW he doesn't mean us."_ Junior watched Mel and Mil stare daggers at Junior's scroll. Junior calmed them with a look. He had almost lost those girls today. Almost lost himself. It was the kind of thing that made a man examine his priorities.

"Roman, all payments for unfulfilled services will be refunded immediately of course." Hei meant it too. He'd find a way to clear any debts with Torchwick immediately. His organization was in trouble, and really needed the lien, but Torchwick wasn't a Bowery Boy. He also had a psychotic who could make illusions at will. If Roman decided to make examples of them, Junior didn't think there was anything that could stop them.

" _That's sweet Hei. And I appreciate the sentiment. I really do. I also can appreciate the pickle your in."_ Roman sighed theatrically, " _Problem is it really is on your end of things and not mine. I'd normally work with you, I'm not a monster after all, but I'm on a tight schedule and all that. So regretfully a refund just isn't going to cut it in this case."_ Roman's voice grew hard, " _We're still on."_

Junior almost panicked, what saved him was a completely absurd idea. How an idea so ridiculous could spring up between Junior's ears was anyone's guess. An idea truly born from desperation. It centered around the kid. The kid that had seen stuff Junior hadn't been able to. That kid somehow got the twins and him out of a no-win situation with their lives, and not in the back of a police car either. Junior's lawyer had all but assured him he would never be charged. The lawyer was also pretty sure the twins would be able to plead out to lesser charges. Leaving the scene of a crime for example, and probably a few other things like weapons charges, violating their aura licenses, etc., although much of that would admittedly hinge more on what the investigation turned up. Five minutes had been helpful, but so would have twenty. Of course if Hei had twenty minutes, Slim would be dead.

Anyways, since the twins were both seventeen, and technically minors, they could very well just end up on a probation skid which would then be sealed in their juvenile record. That kid had performed a miracle today, maybe he could do it again.

"Roman," Junior licked his lips, "I understand your position. Given my situation, would you allow me to bring in another asset until our business is concluded."

Roman had a thoughtful pause, " _What kind of asset?"_

Junior searched his brain for a label that would apply. "Let's just call him a consultant." It was the best term he could come up with.

* * *

That same afternoon, Pyrrha Nikos was launched off of a cliff by a catapult. Evidentially it was a tradition at Beacon. As she flew through the air, the four time champion considered her choices. She had come to Beacon looking for something she had yet to define. A fresh start maybe? Perhaps a fresh outlook? Maybe it was just someone who wouldn't fall over themselves just to shake her hand.

Pyrrha seized on that idea. Yes! What she wanted was a friend. A real friend. Someone who wouldn't care who she was. Who wouldn't think she was perfect. Who would never, ever place her on a damned pedestal.

As Pyrrha descended, she lifted Akoúo to guard position. The catapult had flung her with enough force that her momentum was strong enough to snap off several treetops. Her shield arm barely felt the successive impacts though, since she held the shield firmly in place by using her semblance of polarity. She even gave it a subtle tug to make landing on a large bough look effortless. She raised Miló, currently in its rifle form, to check for threats. These things weren't strictly necessary, but Pyrrha was used to playing for a crowd and did them almost sub-consciously. Pyrrha was rather surprised when she ended up waving her weapon in the face of someone with dark hair and red eyes. Someone who seemed to be standing on a black snowflake of all things.

The red-eyed girl pushed Miló out of her face with a frankly jovial expression. "Damn am I happy to see you. I was terrified I'd end up with that spastic little fucker in the cape." Pyrrha blinked. The girl on the dark snowflake flicked her black hair away from her face as she stepped on the bough. The bough creaked a bit, but was stable enough to hold their combined weight.

Eventually the girl continued, "Bleiss Schnee," the girl stuck out her hand and a bemused Pyrrha took it. "Sup my bitch. Guess we're partners now."

* * *

 **Burkion made me do it. All I have to add.**


	3. Chapter 3

**J.A. Criminal Consulting**

 **Chapter 3**

* * *

 **Written by Demon Of Zero**

* * *

Jaune Arc felt a mixture of pride, anxiety, and general exhaustion as he stumbled back into his hotel room. He'd been lucky to find the place, cheap rooms and modest furnishing, in a nice part of the city that was still reasonably close by anywhere he needed to go and thankfully far away from the site of today's incident.

If only he'd woken up hungover here instead of with that crabby angel... demon... _girl_. The stress that whole event put on his already aching head was just inhumane. Jaune had been fairly certain he was going to hurl at any moment through that whole mess.

But he hadn't. Instead, he managed to keep a bunch of violent gangsters from killing each other. Which probably saved his own life, too, because they didn't look like they were taking prisoners. Only just managing the energy to strip off his armor and throw it to the side somewhere, Jaune slumped forward onto the softness of his hotel bed and just breathed a sigh of relief into the pillows. Safety at last. He could finally stop using his brain and let it try and recover from the abuse he put it through the previous night.

He didn't drink often, there was only one drink he could even stand to begin with after all, so his tolerance was already low. And after being rejected from Beacon, Jaune was pretty sure he'd downed more drinks in that one night than every other time put together. It explained the monstrous headache, the general aches and pains in his body, and so on. Jaune was pretty sure he'd never felt this shitty in his life.

All he really wanted to do right now was just lay here and go to sleep. Tomorrow, he would need to deal with the fallout of his failure; he would head back home in shame, return to his life as the dopey Arc boy who was outshined by his entire family, and try to live out the rest of his life knowing that his dream had been shot down before he'd even had a chance to try.

Maybe he'd wake up back home and find out this was all just some kind of nightmare. He'd wake up, laugh it off, and set out from home to join Beacon Academy and live his dream. He would make friends, get stronger, and become the Huntsmen he had always wanted to be.

"That'd be nice..." He mumbled to himself, tired eyes finally giving out and sliding closed.

Soon enough, he was deep in the embrace of slumber, the entire world blacked out in the pleasant haze of a dreamless sleep.

* * *

When he woke back up, Jaune wasn't surprised to see that it was in the hotel room in Vale. But just because he wasn't surprised didn't mean it didn't feel like a punch in the gut. With the pain in his head now dulled to a light throb instead of the piercing migraine it had been, he fumbled for his scroll to check the time. Pulling the little device out, he flicked it open and sighed.

He didn't know exactly what time he'd dragged himself back to his hotel room, but it had been some time early in the afternoon he was pretty sure. Which meant he had been in bed for a good while, then, because it was now well into the evening. For a few minutes, Jaune just sat there on his bed, staring at the screen of his scroll and watching the seconds tick by on the display. What was he going to do now?

He _should_ just go home. There wasn't anything for him here anymore, right? But... he kind of didn't want to. He had come to Vale in the first place to try and leave that behind, try and be something more.

If he went home, the rest of his life would be spent just... living. He'd get some job or another so he wasn't leeching off his family, and he just be stuck with that life until he died. Jaune didn't want that. Going back home, he would just waste his life away, wouldn't he? But it wasn't like Vale had anything for him either, though. Closing the scroll and slipping it into his pocket, Jaune took a deep breath and let it out as a long, exhausted sigh.

"... I need a shower." He grumbled aloud to himself, catching a whiff of the awful scents clinging to him. He could practically smell the vomit from earlier, the sweat from all of the stress he had been put through while running around the building avoiding gunshots, and if he really tried Jaune could smell some of the blood that had probably landed on him in the conflict.

Yeah. He needed a shower, and he needed to change clothes. And wash his for that matter. That was good. He needed to focus on the little things right now, give himself something to do. It would take his mind off of the endless cycle of depression he was just one good push away from right now. For the moment, Jaune just decided to throw his clothes in a pile near his bags. There was a laundromat down the road, he would wash everything there.

Tomorrow, though. With the experience he just had today Jaune Arc was not about to go wandering around Vale in the dark even if this _was_ supposed to be one of the better parts of town. Throwing the last garment into the pile, Jaune stood in the middle of the room for a few moments as he noticed that, yes, there was actually some blood on his clothing. Not too much, but enough that people would probably have questioned him if anyone noticed it.

Thankfully, the hotel hadn't been very busy when he finally slogged his way back through to his room. He didn't think so, anyway, otherwise someone would probably have stopped him. Jaune sighed. "I'll deal with that tomorrow..." For now, that shower was sounding nicer and nicer. Maybe he would do that and then just head back to bed and sleep off the remainder of the headache. "I am never going to drink that much again, that was awful." The blonde promised himself aloud as he made his way into the bathroom, fumbling with the door for a moment before he managed to get the thing open. Hands, man. How do they even work sometimes?

Well, better than they did when he was drunk, that much was true at least since he actually opened the right door this time; honestly, Jaune was just really glad he didn't somehow stumble his way into another den of crooks and thieves planning a heist on his way to _this_ bathroom. The thought did kind of make him chuckle, just at the absurdity of it. Honestly, he wasn't ever going to tell that story for two reasons; one, no one would ever believe him, and two... he was totally an accessory to that robbery he caught wind of on the news tonight as he walked back to his hotel.

"Whoops..." He mumbled to himself, a bit guilty but at the same time more amused by it than anything. Seriously, how was he supposed to know that was going to happen? It was a total fluke, he had been absolutely smashed out of his mind. They even thought he wouldn't remember doing it, but he did, even if it was sort of blurry and he couldn't quite recall faces from the incident.

Reaching into the shower stall, Jaune fiddled with the knob for a moment and turned on the hot water. He took a couple seconds to let it run and heat up, stuck his hand in to check the temperature, and promptly pulled it back out like he'd touched a burning stove. "Ow." He grumbled, shaking his hand around idly. That was way, way, _way_ too hot. Jaune was all of a sudden very glad that he had gotten into the habit of actually checking the temperature instead of just hopping in like he used to.

That would have _sucked_ massively had he been standing in the middle of it. Quickly correcting the temperature and testing once more, he found the waters to be just right. He smiled widely before stepping into the shower stall and letting the water rain down on him, washing away the tension in his body just as surely as the grime covering it. Jaune was not ashamed whatsoever of the blissful sigh that tore from his lips. This was heaven. Four walls and a cleansing rain to soothe his soul. Here, he could just let his body turn on auto-pilot, let his mind wander, and just feel at peace.

The world was still out there, and nothing had changed... but right now, he just didn't care; and it felt so _good_ after the day he had been having.

What was he going to do about his situation at Beacon? It was kind of obvious, if unfortunate; he _had_ to go back home. Even if he didn't want to, there just wasn't any other option. He didn't have a source of income and his funds would eventually run out. Just because he'd been penny pinching allowances and chore money didn't mean he was loaded; it was a fairly modest sum, but not enough to even try to make a living in Vale.

And even if he did want to do that, what would he _do_ here really? No friends, no family, no place to stay, no income, and no connections to find _any_ of that stuff? That would be stupid. So back home it was, and it was obvious. It wasn't a fun realization, but if there was one thing he learned it was never to ignore shower thoughts. Even the stupid ones could be useful somewhere down the line.

The blow didn't really hit quite as hard as it had when he first got the letter, or even when he'd first slumped into a booth at The Club with a drink in hand. It was kind of muted now, especially when he got a first hand glimpse of what people actually _did_ in a fight.

That crabby girl, Mel, she was a real eye opener for him. While they had been running around in the chaos, he'd noticed that she very clearly did not have any kind of bullet proof vest or anything on. But when she had been shot, it just left a hole in her dress and not in _her_... but, that hadn't been the case for the people she got her hands... er, feet... on. The gore of it was unpleasant, but it told Jaune something about the world that he hadn't really realized before.

He had no idea what the heck he was doing. Like, not even just in a fight like he'd originally thought, Jaune had pieced together from that whole messed up incident that there was something these people had that he just didn't. And he still had zero clue what the heck that was, which was kind of frustrating. If he could just shrug off a bullet wound or two, maybe it wouldn't have been a pipe dream to get to Beacon.

That was shower thought number two; figure out what the heck these people were doing that turned them into freaking super soldiers and get a piece of that pie. It suddenly made sense how a person could go toe to toe with a Grimm if that was what all of the Huntsmen and Huntresses could do, even if it did seem like whatever it was had some kind of limit. If he had that same kind of power, maybe he could even give the Huntsmen thing another shot? Beacon had rejected him, and that sucked, but there were other schools; smaller schools.

It was a bit of a hopeful thought, but it was possible. First he would need to figure out what that special _something_ was that he was lacking, and then he could plan from there. If all these Huntsmen had it, then there was no way it could be a secret. There were just too many people in that line of work to keep something like that hidden from the world. Shower thought two, article b: once he was done in here, start using the vast resources of the CCTnet to research Huntsmen. Nodding lightly to himself, feeling a bit of a smile come to his lips, Jaune set those thoughts aside for the moment and returned to enjoying his shower. But, of course, that _would_ be when the water began to cool.

He grumbled a bit, but quickly got to finishing up before he could get frozen out. "First thing I do, then, is grab my scroll and start trying to figure out what kind of weird mojo I'm missing." Jaune announced to himself, stepping out of the shower and beginning to towel off. "I can work on the rest later, go home and give it another shot another time. If I aim a little lower and prepare myself more, I can maybe still salvage things."

It wouldn't be the same as Beacon, but a license was a license right? It didn't matter if he didn't start out as one of the best, he could still work his way up over time. He could be the guy who graduated from a less known school and matched up to Beacon graduates, the underdog story everyone loved to see. That didn't sound so bad.

So it was with that pleasant thought that a towel-clad Jaune Arc stepped back into his hotel room, prepared for a long night of research into a topic he only had a vague awareness of…

...And then he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the two people currently standing in his room. The room which he had been very, _very_ sure to lock.

But, well, he supposed that those two wouldn't have any trouble finding a way in anyway, would they?

"Ooh, not too shabby there blondie." The crabby angel-demon-girl announced, eyeing him like a piece of meat. She made no move to explain her presence, simply resting on his bed and kicking her legs idly.

She looked a lot better than she had earlier. Unreasonably better, as a matter of fact. Whatever that weird magic they had was, it looked like it extended to more than just protecting them. He was sure her ribs had to have been bruised pretty badly earlier, but right now she seemed pretty much fine. He wondered how much of it was an act. Jaune hadn't gotten a look at the other girl from that incident, but her name had been Miltia, that much he was sure of. And now, seeing her, Jaune figured out something he hadn't really known; they were twins.

That or clones, but twins seemed much more likely. While Mel was clad in whites and blues, with bladed heels on her boots, Miltia was all reds and blacks, with shorter hair and... oh, those claws were not very nice looking. Jaune was now pretty sure he knew exactly how a few of those corpses he had seen ended up like that.

From what he could tell, she also seemed pretty much unharmed; clothes ruffled and a bit rough around the edges, but standing just fine and not seeming like she was in pain. She stood next to her sister, arms crossed and looking him over much less obviously than her sister. "He's not too bad, yeah." She announced after a minute. "Couldn't really tell under that hoodie, but he's not as much of a noodle as I thought."

He really didn't know what to say to that. A pair of killer girls from a local gang had broken into his hotel room, caught him wearing nothing but a towel, and were now just casually ogling him without even explaining why they were there.

"Yeah..." He finally managed to speak, glancing a bit nervously at their weapons and gripping his towel a bit tighter. "I, uh, don't really know what to say here. Um... how can I help you ladies?" As soon as he asked the question, Jaune felt himself regret it a little bit as the girls put on a pair of identical smiles.

In his experience, when the twins start doing the creepy simultaneous smile thing, it ends up causing him grief. Apparently that wasn't just a thing his sisters did.

"Well, Vomit-Boy, you _could_ make it easy on us and just accept our job offer without any hassle." Mel spoke up, showing that he had been completely right to be worried.

"Job offer?" He repeated, cautious. "Are you... inviting me to join your gang? Seriously?" Jaune was understandably a bit shocked she would even ask, considering how the girl had seen him throwing up into an oversized bear head for most of her time interacting with him.

Miltia chimed in, taking over the explanation. "Not, like, just as dumb muscle like the suit and tie grunts." She started up, tapping her foot on the floor and taking a second to try and figure out how to say what she wanted. "You'd be, like... the guy who gives those grunts a plan to follow, get it?" They didn't really have a name for that position, but... "Junior said to think of it as a consultant or something."

Oh. Ooooh. That... huh. Jaune hadn't expected that he would have impressed anyone that much. Were they really struggling that much on that heist before he'd wandered in and drunkenly fixed it? And, well, he _did_ talk everyone out of that whole mess earlier, but that was as much luck as it was anything else.

That kind of put him in a weird spot, though, because Jaune... didn't necessarily want to be a criminal. He also didn't want to have this conversation wearing just a towel, but he didn't really want to be the one to bring it up if they didn't. If no one else was commenting on it he might as well just act natural. That's how he'd gotten through things so far.

Dad's advice was to be confident, and while it hadn't done him any favors with the ladies as of yet he'd managed to get out of a life threatening situation with it so things were evening out. "So, you guys want me to plan more robberies for you?" Jaune tried to keep the incredulity out of his voice, but it was a little difficult.

"I mean, we'd pay you for it." Mel replied with a shrug, crossing her legs over one another. "It isn't like we'd ask you to do it for free, you know."

Okay, that much was good to know at least. They weren't going to try and lock him up like the Girl in the Tower to do their bidding, it was an actual position in their group they were offering. Jaune still wasn't exactly keen on the idea, but things could have been worse. The fact that they were offering this rather than just grabbing him meant that they valued his cooperation, which meant he had room to negotiate.

But, well, he did still have to check something. "And if I still said no?"

Much like he expected, that didn't seem to be something the twins wanted to hear. They glanced between one another for a moment, seemingly sharing a silent conversation. Miltia seemed conflicted, though Mel's face was more aggravation than anything. After a moment of this riveting discussion, the two of them turned back towards him and, in sync yet again, they shrugged.

"We'd have to, like, _convince_ you then." Mel replied to his question, twirling her foot at the ankle and drawing attention to her bladed heels. At the same time, her sister just nodded silently, but she shifted her crossed arms in a way that displayed the edge of her own claws. "Got any ideas how we could go about that, Vomit-Boy?"

It wasn't exactly a subtle threat, but he could appreciate the elegance of it compared to them just outright breaking something. All the same, though... Jaune knew they were bluffing.

"Threatening me won't work, you know. If you guys were desperate enough to try and get help from someone like _me_ of all people, you're really in a bad spot. I know full well that you two _can't_ hurt me, because you need something from me and you won't get it if I'm bleeding out or missing parts." It wasn't even hard to piece together. Twice now he had gone and floundered his way through situations. The fact that it had worked twice didn't mean it was going to work a third time, and it didn't mean he was anything special. That much was obvious. But despite that, after the situation today, these two had personally come to look for him, to try and recruit him. Him, some random blonde guy who puked in a bear head after getting plastered the night before. The fact that they came to him meant they had already gone through every other _better_ option and come up with nothing.

Just like he figured, the twins both balked at his calling their bluff. They probably figured he would be intimidated because of what they had done to those guys earlier, and they would be completely right.

Jaune was in fact terrified of what these girls could do to him. That was exactly _why_ he was calling their bluff instead of going along with them without a fight. If he just meekly let them bully him into this, they would _know_ they could threaten him. It wouldn't stop them, it would just encourage them to do it more often so they could get him to do what they wanted.

Yeah, no, he'd fallen into that trap with his sisters so that wasn't happening again with a pair of decidedly more violent women. Even if they _were_ both really pretty, he was _not_ about to spend the rest of his life as their plaything.

Miltia, seemingly the calmer of the two, sighed. "Yeah, alright. You've got us there. What is it going to take to get your cooperation? Junior is willing to talk terms himself if we can't convince you." She was clearly not happy to be admitting this, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Jaune honestly didn't even want to talk about terms with any of them, because he wasn't really all that into the idea in the first place. But, well... they needed help, didn't they? _Crap_. He had the thought and now it wasn't going to leave him.

These two, and by extension their boss, hadn't actually done anything to him. They had let him sleep off his drunken stupor at their place rather than tossing him to the curb, and when things went down Mel had actually gone out of her way to protect him a few times as they were making their way through the building. If it hadn't been for her he would have just been another casualty of that mess. And they needed help for whatever reason. Maybe he had been underestimating how much losing that building was going to hurt? Was there something else going on that he just didn't know about?

If he helped them, he would feel guilty about helping them commit crimes. If he didn't, he would feel guilty because they needed help and he had refused. This sucked. This _seriously_ sucked.

Jaune didn't like it at all, but he figured that at the very least he could hear them out. "Okay. Say I _was_ interested. Why do you even need to rob these stores anyway?" It seemed kind of stupid for them to be robbing stores when they had, emphasis on had, a legitimate business generating income for them. Now, when they should probably have been laying low, they were instead looking to drag him in to rob _more_ places. It just didn't add up.

They didn't answer him right away, instead having another one of those silent twin conversations. After a moment of that, they turned back to him once again. "So it's like this; we're currently being _commissioned_ by a certain someone to stage these robberies." Miltia started, scoffing out the word commission like it was a curse.

Mel picked up where she left off, explaining further. "And, see, we can't exactly tell this certain someone to shove it, cuz' _they_ are up against a wall in the first place." She shrugged, letting out an annoyed huff.

"And since they're already cornered, they dragged _us_ into it. And now we're obligated to keep this up, because if we can't then it isn't just the certain someone we're gonna have to answer to, but whoever has _them_ acting so out of character in the first place. Get it?"

Well, that was a really long winded way to not tell him a damn thing at all. Okay, so they weren't exactly up for these robberies; that was good, morally speaking. Robbing these stores wasn't what they wanted to do, but they were being coerced into it by someone. If he had to take an educated guess, probably that ginger guy he vaguely remembered from that night he'd taken a leak in their potted plant.

But then that someone was also being forced into it? "What makes you so sure that your _certain someone_ is getting pushed around?"

A rather unladylike snort followed that question, coming from the girl who was less and less angelic as time went on. "Cuz' he's not an idiot." She replied simply, as though that explained everything and he was a moron if he didn't get it.

Her sister picked up and explained, because he was apparently a moron and didn't get it. "We're stealing Dust. Nothing but Dust. No cash, no goods, just Dust." She began, trailing off and seeing if that got any bells ringing in his head.

Coincidentally, it didn't. "And..? It's kind of dumb not to be taking anything but Dust, but I'm not seeing why that means this guy is in a corner?" It's not like he knew this mystery man personally and could piece it together.

The two of them sighed as one, and he was really getting irritated by it to be honest, but then Mel spoke up again to explain. "He usually swipes hard cash or unique valuables he can pawn off to the highest bidder. That doesn't, like... _trash_ the economy. But if he keeps up this pace swiping Dust we're gonna have an economic crisis on our hands, and that's bad for business. What is he supposed to steal if everyone is too broke to buy shit?"

Well, when she put it that way it actually did make a lot of sense. Stealing from rich people would always get you more than stealing from the poor. So why go making _everyone_ poor?Ugh. This was making his head hurt. Jaune never thought he would even consider it again after last time, but he was starting to think he needed a drink.

What a world.

"Okay." He sighed deeply, palm coming up to cover his face even as his other hand held at his towel. "I'm gonna put some clothes on, and you two are gonna take me to your boss." Jaune couldn't believe he was saying this. When did he decide this was a good idea? Oh, that's right, never. This was a very bad idea.

But, and Jaune absolutely _hated_ this about himself, two pretty girls were in trouble and asking him to help. He couldn't just say no, especially because they had pretty clearly implied what was going to happen if they couldn't make this work.

It wasn't pretty, and Jaune didn't like that thought. "I need to know more about this if I'm gonna get anything done, and I wanna know _exactly_ what's in it for me." That last part was more of a bluff really, to hopefully keep them from figuring out how much of a bleeding heart he was for a girl in trouble.

Behind his palm, Jaune wasn't able to tell just which one of them giggled. "Damn, I was kind of hoping he'd forget about the clothes."

"... that wouldn't be too bad, yeah." The other agreed.

He sighed again. "Just... get out of my room so I can change."

"You know you could just change in your bathroom right?" One of them asked him, sarcasm dripping from her tone in a way that suggested it was Mel.

"... I knew that." He had just forgotten with all the chaos.

"We're doomed." The other sister chimed in, _almost_ managing to match the tone of her twin.

* * *

"... you want us to do _what_ , kid?" Junior asked his long-shot "consultant" incredulously, suddenly questioning the decision his gut had made.

The kid in question just sighed, rubbing his temples and looking over the various papers strewn across the desk in their safehouse. "Look, Junior, you guys are in way worse shape than I thought. I didn't know you had lost so many guys to that Beacon girl." It just had to be someone from _Beacon_ of all places who trashed their club. Someone was able to run through not only Junior, but both the twins and an entire gang of armed men single handedly and walk away afterwards.

Jaune didn't think he could take on two of the suit clad bruisers Junior had hired, let alone the dozens that girl had apparently ran over. Talk about a reality check. If that was Beacon level, he was so far out of his league it wasn't even funny.

The big man growled a bit, remembering that incident quite clearly. His damn weapon was still being fixed, had to be practically remade more than anything. If he'd been armed when Slim and his boys had come in, that whole incident would have gone down differently.

Junior was perfectly fine with the property damage setting off a rocket barrage in his own house would cause so long as that slinky fucker went down in the collapse. But back to the present, he was faced with a rather absurd proposal from the blonde kid he'd taken a risk on.

Said kid waved around a couple papers, the rough outline of the number of men Junior had available, as if to prove a point. "The numbers here are telling me you're down to under half what you had not even a month ago, Junior. There is no way that this can continue the way you've been doing things, or you're gonna run out of manpower entirely. It's just not gonna work."

"So your big plan is to basically recruit a bunch of small fry gangs for manpower? _That_ isn't gonna work either kid. They already smell blood in the water, we'd have to spend all our time beating them down to keep them in line. No way in hell they'd cooperate long enough to get anything done, and we'd just be wasting _more_ manpower."

Jaune sighed, because while Junior had a point he was also _completely missing_ the point. "I didn't say we were gonna recruit anybody. You think I want to work with people calling themselves the "Night's Vale"? What kind of stupid name is that?" Seriously, he read comic books regularly and that was _still_ one of the dumbest things he'd heard a group of people call themselves, let alone an _actual_ street gang. "No, Junior, the way I see it is that you guys need some breathing room."

That was entirely correct. Right now the whole of Vale was pressing down on the throat of his organization. He had dirt on enough people to maintain the status quo, but too many more big hits and someone was gonna make a move and send everything toppling over. The piranhas in Vale's underbelly were already snapping around at his heels, not to mention the pair of sharks circling him to begin with in the form of Roman and his little psycho.

And then that slimy little fucker Slim had decided his dick had grown three sizes that day, and came busting down the doors of The Club to swing it around. The very fucking _moment_ he had a second, Junior was going to track that little bastard down and make him regret ever even _thinking_ he could take a swing at the organization he'd built from the ground up.

Seeing that the big man hadn't said anything to the contrary, Jaune carried on with what he was saying. "You're on a deadline. You need _this much_ Dust before _this day_ , but no one said you couldn't get it all at once and pay it early. That guy, Roman, you said it yourself that he's not out for your blood. He's just trying to make _his_ deadline too, right? So if you can make sure his ass is out of the fire, he isn't gonna pressure you when you're trying to get things put back together. Right?"

"Yeah." Junior agreed easily enough, after a second to think on it. "Roman ain't what you can call a _good_ person, but he's not lookin' to make waves in the underworld. As long as he can find someone to sell the shit he steals to, he doesn't care what goes on." It made him reliable to deal with, because he existed outside the factions of the criminal underbelly of Vale.

He was a constant; Torchwick steals shit, finds someone to fence it to, and then goes about his merry way until he needs to sell something again or he gets bored enough to send the police a letter declaring his next heist for shits and giggles. Sure, that stirred shit up with the cops and made it harder for some folks to do their thing with the police riled up, but Junior wasn't one of the people it affected so what did he care?

But anyway... "Get back to the point, kid. What do you mean we _aren't_ recruiting? You just said yourself we don't have the manpower to pull off these robberies anyway, and then you said we should just get it all done at once to take a breather. You're not making sense."

"All these gangs here?" Jaune waved his hand over another pile of papers he had set aside, this time one that was listing the competition in the area. "You've got dirt on them. You know where each and every one of their hideouts are." Seeing the big man nod, Jaune grinned because it still didn't seem like it was sinking in. "Junior, you said it yourself. All these guys, they want to make a move, and they all hate each other just as much as they hate you. So what happens if someone hands out detailed plans to rob a Dust shop to every one of these gangs in Vale?"

Junior balked for a second at the thought. "It'd be chaos. The cops would be run ragged doing damage control, even if most of them got caught there would still be plenty that got off and stashed their loot..." He trailed off, shaking his head as the idea finally started to make more sense to him. "Kid, you've gotta be fucking with me. You want us to kickstart anarchy in Vale so we can swipe the loot from whoever doesn't get caught in the process?"

"Yeah." Jaune replied immediately, excited despite himself with the sheer _audacity_ of his own plan. "Just think about it, this way even the guys who get caught are _helping_ you. The less of these guys on the streets the better off you are right now, right? And if you know where all of their hideouts are, it won't be hard to hit them, right?"

"... Right." Junior found himself agreeing, reaching one massive hand up to scratch at his beard. "I've even got a few guys in the force who owe me favors. Some of these gangs are already wanted for plenty of other shit. To get them behind bars, they probably won't mind some of that Dust getting lost in the chaos, so we won't even need to get into any _serious_ fights." The more he thought about it, the better this sounded. He had enough eyes in the city to keep track of these bozos when they started looting, so he could tell who got their shit back home and who got caught in transit. And none of them would ever expect to get robbed right after they got their loot stashed either.

It was clever.

It was also pure fucking anarchy.

But, frankly? Junior was in too deep by this point to even care.

If he didn't take this risk, he was fucked. He did the numbers himself and having the kid confirm it just made it all the more real. So at this point, there was just no reason _not_ to drag everyone else down as deep into the muck as he was. It'd be chaos, but he would be _ready_ for it, unlike everybody else in Vale.

This... it could work. And if it didn't, then hell... nothing really even changed for them in the first damn place. They were fucked if they didn't do it, and they were fucked if it didn't work out.

"Fuck it." He announced after mulling it over, turning around and starting to head off and get things together. "We're gonna give this a shot. Once the twins get back from the station I'll fill them in, then we'll sit down and start getting this worked out." Junior sighed deeply, rolling his neck and setting off a series of loud pops from the motion. "Gotta hand it to you kid, one way or another this is gonna be big. I sure as hell wasn't expecting it when I sent the twins to get you on board."

Jaune let his head fall onto the desk in front of him as the gravity of the events just hit him full force.

"Yeah." He choked out through grit teeth, fighting to keep from slamming his head on the desk. "Neither was I." Gods, what had he just done? This was going to be chaos. How many people were going to be hurt in the fallout of this? How could he have _actually_ just proposed that?

It was because Junior had given him a puzzle, he realized after a second to think it over. Jaune _loved_ puzzles. So when Junior had pitched him this seemingly impossible challenge, he'd tried to find all of the neat and simple solutions for it. There weren't any. And that got him excited. So excited he had completely forgotten that these were real people he was dealing with and not characters in a video game.

This was not going to end well at all. And it was all his fault.

There was only one thing he could thing to say about that.

"Fuck."

* * *

 **L/N: Hey folks, next chapter by the talented Demon of Zero. This was a bit late due to IRL issues, but here it is, and I think it's personally worth the wait. Enjoy, and hopefully we'll get our next volunteer on the WiP Server soon.**


	4. The Path of the Tornado

**The Path of the Tornado**

* * *

 **By quijibo7609**

* * *

There was one glaring problem with Jaune's initial plan. It took Junior nearly ten minutes to discover it, but by the time he did the consultant had formulated a workable solution.

Junior's grin became all hard lines and uncomfortable angles when he heard that solution… and grew to the point where it nearly took in his ears.

"You're sure you can convince him to do it?"

Jaune wasn't remotely sure of any such thing, but he was getting pretty good at faking it.

* * *

The Club was empty. It was kind of sad if one took the time to think about it. Roman was on a deadline, yet he still believed taking the time felt warranted. Hollow now, with police tape dragged over the beautiful bronze and glass doors, the headquarters of the Red Axe gang was completely silent. The rays of the setting sun splashed the structure with a heavy mix of orange and gold light, washing out its natural colors. It looked like something ready to be forgotten.

Not that Torchwick was surprised of course. Two months ago, news of what had happened was _the_ hot topic in Vale. In fact, it was a leading story for weeks. Lisa Lavender herself had done several pieces right in front of the taped-off glass doors, and had even snuck inside to film numerous chalk outlines and blood splatters. Vale's government allowed this of course. For some reason, the city cheered when the bad people, the _right_ people, died. Roman closed his eyes briefly.

It was hard not to root for the Grimm sometimes.

Suitably dramatic ennui aside, Roman could never be melodramatic after all, Torchwick puffed on his cigar and mulled over his remaining options. They weren't very good, hence the cigar. Smoking was a tell of his of course, which is the main reason he often tried to quit. When the end approached however…? Well it was time to grab whatever enjoyment you could find. For Roman, there was undeniable joy to be found in a hand wrapped _Cohibas_ Cigar. True, a joy heavily spoiled by the fact that, for Roman Torchwick, the end was nigh.

Still, beggars can't be choosers after all.

Okay _that_ was a bit melodramatic. A bit.

Roman felt a little melodrama was highly excusable given his circumstances. For the last several weeks, dust shops were getting hit. Dust shops were getting hit hard… and Roman wasn't the one doing it. His own intake of dust had slowed to a crawl, as more and more of Vale's resources were dedicated to protecting the shrinking dust supply. Cops, some that were all but old chums, were no longer willing to look away. Some even refused to take bribes! One even had the unmitigated gall to threaten him with arrest. A threat Torchwick made an example of when he sent Neo into his home to take pictures of his sleeping children. It was crass, it had no subtlety, and it was what Roman had been reduced to in order to steal two cases of mid quality crystals.

Roman was dancing on a shoestring ever since that flaming bitch walked into his life, and now that shoestring was fraying. Fraying before Roman was even halfway across the abyss. Sad thing was, it didn't even matter how deep the abyss was, because he'd be burned to ash before he ever hit bottom. He puffed on his cigar once more, before grinding it out on the sole of his boot. A hundred lien cigar, squashed against the heel of a boot before being tossed aside. There was a metaphor in that.

Okay he was being melodramatic. He could admit that. It happened to even the best of people.

Roman glanced at Neo, and she looked back at him. Her illusionary disguise today was that of a girl sporting classic Neo pink and white, a moderately ridiculous combat skirt (which irritated him because it reminded him of Little Red), freckles, bright orange air, and rather fetching turquoise eyes. Roman briefly wondered what had inspired this look, and that made him wonder what illusionary disguise he himself now sported. Ultimately, Torchwick dismissed it as unimportant. Neo's inspirations were her own.

Her thoughts though, well right now, they were written plain as day on her face.

There was naked worry in Neo's expression. Something that she almost never showed. Worse, there was still a lot of trust and belief, and fuck did that hurt. Believe it or not, that fucking hurt a lot. No one had ever believed in him like Neo did. The situation was only made worse by the fact that Neo could cut bait anytime she wanted. Cinder hadn't met her, and her semblance would make finding her nearly impossible regardless. Thus, Neo could run anytime she wanted to, but Roman knew she wouldn't. Not without Roman. The thought should have been cheering, but it wasn't. He thought of everything his little accomplice had gone through. She deserved a better end than sharing whatever shallow grave he'd be buried in.

Or, more likely, whatever gust of wind carried their smoldering ashes.

Roman took a moment to feel his own anger. Despair made you give up, but anger… there was power in anger. Roman needed that power and a focus for his anger. That focus was now Junior. Junior knew the answers to many questions, and Roman wanted several questions answered immediately. None more than, " _Why the fuck was every two bit gang suddenly in the dust heisting market!?"_ Aggravated, Roman decided he was done staring at dead things and turned away from the hollow building in front of him. With a subtle indication of his head, the thief informed Neo it was time to move on. They had an unscheduled appointment to keep.

Not that Roman had any burning hostility towards Junior himself. If there was one good bit of news, it was Junior was making his quotas. Exceeding them in fact. Junior was now way ahead of schedule, and Hei assured Roman he would be able to meet his obligations by the end of the month. That was nearly a full month early. Roman, given his circumstances, would normally be thrilled with this news, but it came with a caveat. Junior wanted out. Obligations met, contract fulfilled, and everyone went their separate ways. That was _all_ Junior wanted. Despite the much more lucrative offer Roman offered, Junior was done. He wasn't even tempted, and Roman had long ago learned to read these kinds of situations.

Roman had pushed hard after Hei informed him that the Red Axes were keeping their heads down and their noses clean for the foreseeable future. Hard, but Roman had not pushed too hard. Squeezing Junior now would definitely make him balk. It could also make him dig in and go to ground, or worse make him run (although that wasn't very likely), and Junior's dust source would dry up. That would seal Roman's fate and end his admittedly fading hopes.

So, the Red Axes were out, but they obviously did have a dust contact somewhere. So Roman's second question was where Junior was getting his supply. Roman hoped Junior would sell this information willingly, and not be reduced to callous threats, but Roman had a deadline. So forcing a face to face, one where Neo could be Neo, was warranted. Much like a now terrified Vale police officer had learned, right now subtlety was out the window.

As Roman pulled his head out of his darker thoughts, he took in his surroundings more closely. Neo, who had been laying some groundwork for tonight's incursion, was absolutely right. The neighborhood was on the rebound. Roman recognized this with a glance as a hundred little things jumped out at him, all signaling the area's changing socioeconomical climate. Little things, like graffiti being painted over with the correct paint said people now cared. Bigger things like a few store fronts getting remodeled, legitimately remodeled mind and not some petty scam for insurance fraud, shouted that some businesses were doubling down with their money. The thing that shouted change most of all though, was the people.

While the neighborhood wasn't exactly bustling, there was still the quiet hum of people. The section, so near the docks and uncomfortably too close to the wall, had always attracted a certain strata of Vale's population. Now it felt better, like a blue collar neighborhood with aspirations. People who looked at their surroundings and believed this was fine for now, but tomorrow would be even better. And not all those people would be looking for their better tomorrow elsewhere.

That attitude reflected in the businesses around them, and the growing abundances and varieties of them. While shop fronts along the docks weren't exactly known for being empty, they were known for catering to very specific clientele. True, there was still an excess of bars, dingy diners, pawn shops, and money lending signs offering fast and discreet pay day loans, but Roman knew their days were numbered in this new environment. They were no longer among the most reputable business establishments on the street, and that meant realtors would be able to charge higher premiums soon. These new business's, with their fresh paint and bright new awnings, would frown and bully most of these older establishments out of the area. Pretty soon, a dockworker would take his wife and children to a silly little chain restraint that was housed in the very unit that once contained the _Mistral_ _Massage_ parlor he used to visit every payday.

Okay, Roman was feeling very melodramatic today. So sue him.

The Red Axes were still seen here or there as well. They were still wearing their trademark suits and sporting their trademark weapons, but they walked the streets and seemed to avoid the actual shops. Roman paused. That was new and rather interesting. Typically, ganglanders hung by certain establishments, near certain alleys, or near certain street corners. These guys looked like they were patrolling. Gangs patrolling was nothing new, but they did this in heavily armored vehicles with very tinted windows. Not on foot where any two bit thug could take a pop at them from concealment. What the fuck kind of tactics were these?

Granted the Red Axes were more or less at peace with their neighbors. Roman guessed that the Bowery Boyz getting too big for their britches, and then subsequently being slapped down hard, had served as a warning to some of the lower level scavengers. Thing is though, there were predators that were much bigger. Why the fuck are they allowing the Red Axes to recover?

Something clicked, and Roman had to fight the urge to reach for another cigar. Torchwick's third question dawned in his mind. _Who was the consultant?_ Roman knew Junior's mysterious new asset had to be involved somehow. Allowing Junior to bring him or her in had allowed the Red Axes to hold up their end, but Roman hated mysteries with a passion. Not knowing things got you killed. Like how this person was able to get these kind of results.

While Junior's mysterious asset hadn't caused some strange rapid expansion in the gang's territory, Junior's organization had definitely stopped the bleeding. Granted, the Red Axes and their consultant doubtlessly benefitted from the general mayhem. Mayhem that was generated by all these small and midsized gangs who were now slitting each other's throat for a simple uncut crystal. Since so many gangs had to keep their eyes on the home front these days, that obviously gave Junior a fighting chance to draw a desperate line in the sand.

Thing was, that still didn't feel right. It couldn't be the entire story, because the Red Axes didn't feel like they were holding on by their fingernails. In fact, their territory felt like an island of calm in a sea of chaos. It was really weird.

Roman stopped. Even musing through the sights around him, his situational awareness kept him alive. So he stopped, because Neo had stopped. Not that Roman truly felt threatened, well any more than normal, because Neo hadn't tensed when she stopped. She had simply just ceased walking. Since the sphere of influence for her illusions was relatively small, barely twenty feet in any direction, and it noticeably shrank when she got distracted, Roman knew better that to wander too far from her side. Roman decided he'd better look and discover what it was that interested Neo so.

He might have known.

With a sigh, a sigh caused by her adorably pleading expression, he nodded in acquiesce. Roman, being obviously distracted, had allowed Neo to guide him in front of a brand new ice cream parlor. Really, Roman thought to himself, no psychopath should ever be blessed with these frighteningly high levels of sneakiness, manipulativeness, and just pure cuteness. With a melodramatic sigh, his standards now thrown entirely out the window along with his subtlety, he opened the door for her so she could indulge her sweet tooth.

The little parlor wasn't exactly packed, but it wasn't completely empty either. A few kids and a few parents sat in booths here and there. There was even a pair of Red Axes in the corner eating cones, although the rest of the clientele were giving them a wide birth. A blond teenaged boy quickly forced Roman to amend that thought. _Almost_ the entirety of the clientele. The teen, who looked vaguely familiar for some reason, talked happily with the pair of Red Axes, who were actually rather friendly in their responses.

Roman narrowed his eyes, but made sure not to stare. He didn't want his surprise visit to Junior to be spoiled. The gang members did cause Roman to reflexively check his reflection in the large mirror behind the counter, and in doing so, nearly did a spit take. Ugh, long black hair with pink highlights? Really? And teal? Who wore teal? Neo, still sporting her illusionary orange hair and turquoise eyes, caught him looking at his reflection. His disgust caused her to silently laugh at him. Honestly, Roman had half a mind to storm out of the Ice Cream Parlor, and Neo could wait until tomorrow for her snack. He didn't though, mainly because Neo was on edge as well. A little fun at his expense wasn't the worst way she could occupy her mind. Still, what had Neo seen that could possibly inspire this level of horror? It was just awful on so many levels, and her having fun or not, Roman still planned on having a long word with her about her stylistic choices when it came to himself.

Grumbling a bit, Roman plopped a twenty lien chip on the counter. "She'll have a triple scoop. Chocolate on the bottom, strawberry in the middle, and vanilla on top." The man, who looked to be rapidly approaching middle age, smiled and nodded.

"Anything for you young man?" the question was polite, but Roman had always disliked his teenaged years and really hated being called that back then. In fact, it still felt demeaning.

Roman's fake teenaged smile never wavered though as he shook his head. He watched his illusionary hair sway when he did, Neo was going all out with this. Still, this disguise was so anti-anything Roman Torchwick, the thief smelled opportunity. For some reason, the Red Axes were in here, the first time he's seen them coming in or out of any of the new businesses. A little fishing never hurt anyone.

"You the owner?" The question was loaded of course, especially with gang members in the actual store. The man tensed, and one of the Axe's tensed as well, but Roman pretended he didn't notice. _Don't worry about me, I'm just your typical teenaged sheople asking dumb questions_ , he thought.

"Yes I am," the man replied cautiously.

Roman nodded, "Well congratulations." Roman still found himself inwardly wincing at his own reflection. Sheesh, he even had pink eyes. Torchwick continued, "I'm glad to see the old neighborhood make a comeback."

The man relaxed, and the Red Axe went back to his ice cream. The owner spoke, "This is a neighborhood rapidly on the rise. Are you from around here? I don't think I've ever noticed you, although, to be honest, I'm still new to the neighborhood myself."

Roman lied easily, "Yes and no?" the man looked at him confused and Roman laughed sheepishly, "I guess I really could have explained that better. We're students from Shade, in a bit early for the Vytal festival. My mom lives just down the block you see," Roman noticed the flower emblems on his, _ugh,_ attire, "I thought I'd pick her up some flowers and surprise her early."

The man beamed, and slid the twenty-lien chip right back to Roman, "Well now, can't exactly charge such a courageous young man," Roman was almost certain he _heard_ Neo laugh at the hated title, "and his lovely lady," now Roman silently laughed at Neo who couldn't even stomp on his foot without risking a disruption in her illusion. The man continued, "There's a lovely woman named Lindsay who just opened up a flower boutique around the corner. You stop in, tell her Thom sent you, and I'm sure she'd cut you a deal my young friends."

Neo smiled pleasantly, but Roman could see the measuring scales in her eyes. The proprietor was skirting disaster. At least he used the word, "young," and not, "little." Roman had tried to explain to Neo numerous times that arson was to be reserved for the proper places and times, but it hadn't really ever stuck. Roman rather hurriedly handed over the ice cream to her. One bite, and her more violent tendencies were buried under her one true obsession.

Roman smiled at her lovingly, then continued with his lie, "Well mom said our neighborhood was doing better, but wow. I mean wow, even the graffiti is gone!"

The man puffed up, and given his expansive waistline, that wasn't a very good look. The guy's tone became a bit sly, "Not many know this, but there is a rumor the City rezoned a bunch of land so they can build a new arena. One of them fighting arena's for young hunters and huntresses such as yourself to compete in. I figure the kids at the school, which is over a block, and the big apartment buildings down the street will keep me busy until it opens. Once it does, every summer weekend, this place will be hopping!"

Roman blinked, and his brain had a moment of vapor-lock. This was the silliest thing he'd heard all day. It really was, and he was feeding a short psychotic ice cream (thank the gods Neo isn't a mind reader). Still, mind reading psychotics aside, what kind of fucking graft was this?

Roman asked, "How did you hear about that?" His tone was bemused even if it was an obvious question.

The man smiled wide to point of absurdity, "I got lucky! When my old lease ran out, my realtor told me. Turns out she knows a guy on the board! I got this place for a song compared to my old place! Sure business is a bit slower right now, but it ain't bad, and I'll be doing even better than my old place once the arena opens. For half the rent!"

Roman blinked again. Something suddenly smelled fishy. This answer did not lessen any of Roman's misgivings, his danger antenna fully extended itself. Still, he wanted answers, "Aren't you the least bit concerned about the violent shootout that happened just down the street? My mom was, and is, still freaked out about that." Roman voice was a bit harsh since he was losing some composure. He wasn't even sure why.

The man's smile became a bit troubled. "Yeah. I guess it was really big news if it got all the way to Vacuo." The man again puffed up, and almost pantomiming the act of putting his big boy britches on. "Kid," right then and there, Roman vowed to never refer to a teenager as a kid again, "You got to understand how things are." Roman blinked slowly. He looked at Neo, who blinked slowly back, "Now I admit I don't rightly feel good about it either, but my realtor told me how she leveraged that to get me such a good deal… We all have to make compromises to get by in life, you know?"

Roman thought this was way too much irony for him to take when he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. Roman half-expected it to be Neo telling him to let it go, but it wasn't. It was, in fact, the vaguely familiar boy in the hoodie.

"Mr. Candlestick?" he asked.

Roman didn't freeze, but he had to fight the urge to reach for a cigar. The obvious allusion to his real name was a threat, but what made it dangerous was how close the kid… _okay so I'm a hypocrite…_ actually was. The k- blond wasn't across the room, he was standing right next to the thief, even touching Roman on the shoulder. How had the kid… guy… gotten this close to him without him noticing? And why did he look so damned familiar?

Neo stepped behind the teen, and Roman smirked even as he relaxed. That was a neat trick, and Roman fully intended to understand how the kid… young man… the _fucking blond_ had managed it, but unless this was some kind of world class hunter, Roman was pretty sure he would be just fine.

Roman smiled one of his best predatory smiles. It was still put to shame by the one Neo now wore herself.

Jaune closed his eyes and breathed in deep and slow. Junior had told him how dangerous the shorter one was. She was supposedly more dangerous than Millie and Mel put together, and then some, and she was standing behind him. It should have been terrifying.

But it wasn't. Not even remotely. Because it wouldn't make sense for them to kill him. It didn't matter how dangerous they were. It only mattered what they would do, not what they could do. Thus, Jaune could see them as just like anyone else. They two were just two people with problems, problems Jaune might be able to help with. That didn't make Roman Torchwick look any less ridiculous right now.

Seriously, who wears teal?

The man, who also sported pink highlights in his hair for some reason, smiled big at Jaune, "Yes I am. Have we met? You look familiar somehow."

The man's smile was a warning and a threat, but Jaune let it all go. This was just one more step forward in getting Junior clear. That was all. "We did in fact. I gave you some directions a couple months back and you were nice enough to pay my bar tab. Thank you for that by the way." Jaune smiled for the benefit of the curious shop owner, "I didn't realize you were a student at Shade."

Jaune saw recognition dawn in the man's illusionary, but still arresting, magenta eyes. "That's where we met! Damn kid, I have to admit that was going to bug me all day if you hadn't just told me."

Jaune smiled politely, "Kid? Honestly, you don't look any older than me, but then again maybe it's a huntsman thing."

The illusion, that was in fact Roman Torchwick, smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, we don't really mean anything by it."

Jaune shrugged affably, "No offense taken, and, again, thank you. Want to meet with my boss tonight? He's looking for some moonlighters if you don't mind interrupting your visit with your family."

The thief looked intrigued, "Boss?"

"Yes. Believe it or not he hired after watching me help you out," Jaune smiled carefully, "He said I have a knack for this thing."

"Really?" Roman's black eyebrows went up further.

The proprietor coughed, and fixed Jaune with a disapproving glare, "I know your boss there young man. These young defenders aren't the type to get mixed up in that kind of nonsense."

Jaune smirked, and he saw Roman notice the expression, "You're probably right sir. It was just an honest question."

Jaune saw Neo laugh silently in the mirror at the statement. It was kind of eerie to be honest. Junior didn't know much about her. When Jaune had pressed for whatever details Junior could offer, his boss had mentioned a few things though. Roman admitted she could do illusions. Even Jaune realized that admission was meant to draw attention from her other skills. Junior also said she was silent, completely silent. He's never even heard her utter a grunt. Other things were she likes sugary alcoholic drinks with lots of ice, was highly partial to certain colors (chiefly white, pink, and brown), and could plow through a half gallon of ice cream like she was immune to even the concept of ice cream headaches. Lastly, Junior assured him that he could tell she was extremely dangerous. Not because of her illusions, or because her rumored skillset, but because Neo was the kind of person who just didn't care. Junior warned Jaune that people that don't care also don't have rules.

Jaune looked at her in the mirror. She saw and offered a sadistic wink in response. Jaune smiled politely back at her, which obviously left her somewhat confused. Jaune took a moment to briefly imagine not caring about anything or anyone. It took just a split second to decide Junior had probably made an error. Neo doubtlessly had rules, she just wasn't inclined to explain them. That made her way more dangerous than even Junior could imagine, because if there were rules, someone could break them while dealing with her. Jaune was new to Vale's underworld, but Neo did not look merciful.

Still, Jaune had already discovered a few of those rules. The fact that she had been spotted so easily was evidence of this.

Jaune took slow regular breaths, an action that kept him calm. The not-Roman looked on smugly, but Jaune saw that was a front. Jaune had noticed Roman's façade waver a split second when Neo's expression faltered.

Jaune decided to deliberately ramp up the tensions. "The choice is yours of course, Mr. Candlestick, but I would still like to escort you there so he can personally make you an offer."

The notorious thief tensed. The Neo in the mirror borderline snarled. Jaune's polite smile did not waver though. Of course Torchwick managed to hold on to his own smile, but it no longer touched the pink of his eyes. "Is that so? And If I refuse that request?"

Calm, steady, Jaune explained. "You'll go about your business unmolested. No one wants to cross a huntsman, and I understand that."

The proprietor, obviously emboldened by whom he thought he had in his store, decided enough was enough. "I think I'm going to ask you and your friends to leave. Right now young man."

Jaune turned, now putting Roman and Neo out of his immediate vision. The two of them seemed frankly shocked by the gesture, but Jaune paid them little mind as he focused on the store owner. Jaune smiled the same polite smile he always wore for these occasions.

"If you ask _nicely_ ," Jaune said calmly. The man paled, and Jaune honestly felt bad for him, but there were rules. Rules that actually kept this man safe in spite of himself.

"Please," the suddenly terrified man rasped, although not before a desperate glance at the illusion-clad Roman and his accomplice.

Jaune smiled calmly to the proprietor, he then slowly turned and nodded politely to Neo and Roman. "I'll be outside for a few minutes if you change your mind." Without another word, Jaune walked out the door. When he left, both Red Axes left with him.

* * *

Roman gave Neo twenty full minutes to eat her ice cream. The owner seemed somewhat hurt that Roman and Neo hadn't completely destroyed his establishment while apprehending the mean people that had dared threatened him. Roman thought of Little Red. What a fucking idiot. Roman still left a twenty lien chip on the table when he walked out. He did it not because he felt like the shopkeeper deserved it, but so that it maintained his illusion of a young man who felt bad about not being able to right all the world's wrongs.

Once outside, Roman reached inside his coat, or whatever it looked like he was wearing right now, and pulled out a little bit of joy. _Really Neo, fucking teal_? The sun had finally crept lower than the wall, and the streets were covered in the fading light of dusk. Roman considered his options as he clipped the cigar's end neatly. Junior knew Roman was coming. Junior obviously thought he was ready for Roman. So ready, Junior had decided to _warn_ Roman. Roman knew, bravado against the cops was one thing, but bravado against Vale's underworld was something else. It got you so far, then it got you killed. However, Roman was feeling just desperate enough to be brave, and that thought was every bit as scary as it sounded. So lost in thought was he, that Torchwick nearly jumped out of his boots during the first puff of his cigar.

The blond teen coughed politely right behind him. Right fucking behind him. Neo's umbrella came up, her expression far from amused, and Roman was startled to realize he had snuck up behind Neo as well. Startlement turned to anger. Growling, Roman grabbed the blond idiot and moved to drag him down the first dark alley he could find… which turned out to be harder than initially expected given how many street lamps had been recently repaired.

"Um, that place looks suitably dark." the blond pointed out helpfully. Roman started that way, then cursed himself for an idiot. Why was he listening to his kid? Was it some kind of semblance? Roman looked at the dark alleyway with dawning trepidation. Suddenly, he had no desire to wander into any dark alleys. Neo or no Neo.

Roman felt a hint of defeat, but he didn't let that note touch his expression or his voice. "What do you want?" he growled instead.

The blond smiled, "Answers, Mr. Candlestick. That's all."

This time Neo didn't work her way behind him, she stood directly in front of Roman. Roman was honestly touched, but he noticed how this mysterious kid… young man… this whatever noted her positioning with cool blue eyes. His expression reminded him of Cinder Fall in most of the worst ways. The thought of that flaming bitch caused something to finally, finally click in Roman's head.

"You?" Roman mumbled. "You're the Consultant?" Neo took her eyes off Junior's new asset to look at Roman, and Torchwick really wanted her eyes front and center. He might not look it, but he was almost certainly exceedingly dangerous.

Junior's asset seemed to wince, "More or less," he stood there at ease but his voice sounded sincere, "Listen, we only want to talk. Junior just wants to fulfill his contracts, and move on with life. Nothing more."

Roman swallowed. His brain screamed at how obviously suicidal it was to listen to this guy, but all his instincts told him this guy was nothing, a complete non-treat. Roman trusted his intuition, but when it told him stepping off the cliff was a good idea… it was just way more confusing than it really needed to be.

"If," Roman could not believe he was about to say this, " _If_ I go with you, I need you to answer one question first."

The consultant turned and pointed to the ice cream parlor still barely fifty paces away, "There are two practical approaches to Junior's temporary office. This one has an ice cream parlor and a brand new custom tailor with a well-stocked haberdashery. The other has a huge smoke shop specializing in cigars with a walk-in humidor as well as a bar that specializes in those mixed drinks with tons of shaved ice in them." Roman blinked. "The buildings themselves are owned by Xiong Incorporated of course, which found suitable reasons to make excellent deals with realtors for businesses that looked suitable for the neighborhood's new feel."

Roman actually gaped. "You mean that were suitable bait." For the first time in his life, Roman felt like a rat. Like a literal rodent.

The consultant shook his head, "Of course I don't. We signed nearly thirty leases in the last month, and have more pending. We were rather forced to do so on favorable terms for our renters, terms that look incredibly enticing given the rumored new arena project due to be announced during the Vytal festivities." The dangerous man, whose Roman's instincts still viewed as a non-threat continued, "We needed a revenue stream that didn't rely on things like protection or vice. Granted, it's a short term solution at best, but it helped us keep up appearances and everyone paid. Plus the property is now more valuable, so it works as an investment as well should Junior decide to sell at a later date." The consultant sighed, "It's kind of obvious when you think about it."

Roman felt vaguely insulted, but let it slide. He was about to say something when the consultant raised his hand. The dangerous man in front of Roman continued, "That doesn't mean we didn't watch certain establishments for people showing certain preferences." He reached into the pocket of his hoody. Way too late, Roman tensed as he had to logically deduce the danger instead of just react to it. Neo was a bit quicker, but she was so unnerved she pulled out the hidden blade in her umbrella. The consultant looked at the weapon curiously for a moment, then finished making his move. Again both Neo and Roman were slow to react. Before Torchwick knew it, it was already too late. Roman moved to pull Neo behind him.

Only to wind up staring at a brand new wooden box of hand-wrapped _Cohibas_ cigars.

"Your brand right?"

Roman stared at him dumbly.

"We only want to talk."

Slowly Roman nodded. Even Cinder Fall had never made him feel like this.

* * *

Pyrrha dropped the Ursa assaulting Cardin Winchester with a gesture. To most it would have looked like her shield had a lucky bounce off the tree before it rocketed into the backside of the creature's armored skull. As it slumped weakly at her feet, she drove the spear point of Miló straight through its eye. Cardin looked at her with something strange mixed in with the gratitude of his expression. Pyrrha sighed, as much as she didn't like the bully, she really couldn't blame him for the fear in his gaze.

Pyrrha partner had made it her life's mission to make every waking moment of Cardin Winchester's life absolutely miserable. Some time ago, Bleiss had noticed the boy pulling on Velvet Scarlatina's ears. Pyrrha had made the point of saying it was disgraceful, but Bleiss had decided to take it several steps further. When Cardin winked at her and asked, "Want to help me tame it?" Bleiss had reacted rather violently.

A white fist, glinting like steel, had materialized behind Winchester, sucker punching him through the wall. Team CRDL tried to rally to their leader's defense, but the cafeteria rapidly began to swarm with dozens and dozens of sparkling white or black Grimm. And all of them were only interested in Team CRDL.

Bleiss was going to be serving detention for the rest of the semester for that one. Not that it deterred her. Pyrrha's partner showed no signs of slowing down. In combat class, she still challenged CRDL's members eagerly, and enjoyed insulted the size of their, well members, while doing so. Glynda Goodwitch, who was nearing her wit's end, had recently forced Bleiss to face off with Pyrrha instead.

Bleiss hadn't lasted two minutes against her. She also hadn't taken her defeat well. Unable to assail Pyrrha herself physically, she decided to humble the Mistral Champion by making her defend Winchester at every turn. This left Pyrrha with relatively limited options in making friends, and that hurt as much as anything possibly could.

Pyrrha looked at the beaten boy, face swollen from rampant stings, the odd rapier wasp buzzing around his head, with mixed feelings. Truth be told, Pyrrha Nikos couldn't stand Cardin Winchester, but not liking him did not mean she was going to leave him to be crushed under Bleiss Schnee's heel.

"Head's up bitch! Coming through!" Speak of the devil, and she appears, Pyrrha winced as her partner rode in on the shoulder of her personal Armored Gigas.

Pyrrha didn't move though, if she did, she knew full well Cardin would end up being accidentally stepped on. When she didn't move away, Pyrrha noticed her partner's expression darken. Still the giant metal golem was brought to a halt a few feet away, and started to dematerialize as the Schnee hopped of its shoulder. Mostly likely dismissed because Bleiss had already learned if she didn't put it away, Pyrrha would put it away for her.

Yes things between them could be better.

"So what happened to your little shitbag over there?" she smirked, "he looks quite the mess."

Pyrrha didn't look back at the boy behind her. She winced though, gods to be reduced to standing up for him again… "Cardin, do you mind if I have a word alone with my partner?"

The weary young huntsman climbed to his feet with a nod. Bleiss smirked at him, and smirked harder when she realized he couldn't even manage eye contact. Rather forcibly, Pyrrha physically spun her partner around to face her before Bleiss started spouting insults.

"Fucking hands off!" the gothic huntress snarled as she slapped Pyrrha's hands away.

Pyrrha let her go. "What's wrong with you?" she hissed.

"Me?" The Schnee shaped pain in the… rear… shrugged. "I'm not the one that spends half her day defending a racist fuck. I do know a person who does that though. Wanna guess her name?"

Pyrrha felt her self-control slip a notch. Pyrrha led Team PRNS, Team Princess, and she hated almost every minute of it. It was a wonderful headache Beacon's headmaster had saddled her with, although, honestly, Pyrrha knew her fame meant team leadership was probably unavoidable. At least Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren were nice enough. Thankfully, they didn't take well to Bleiss's insinuations to Pyrrha being a closet racist, but there was still problems. The two of them were from Mistral and way too starry eyed for Pyrrha's personal comfort. The other half of the team were too eager to please, and always quick to take Pyrrha's side. This actually had the opposite effect of what the other two partners obviously wanted, and made Pyrrha want to hold them at arm's length. Still, PRNS's leader could easily tell that her partner constantly felt ganged up on.

It was all going wrong, and Pyrrha didn't know what she could do about it! However, that still did not excuse Bleiss from some personal responsibility!

"He could have died!"

The Schnee casually inspected her nails, "So?" Pyrrha stepped forward, and Bleiss rolled her eyes, "Okay the sap and the wasps were me. The Ursas that chased him through the forest were kind of an accident."

Pyrrha growled, "You understand that if Goodwitch finds out about this, you're going to be expelled for it!"

Bleiss yawned, completely unconcerned. "He won't say anything,"

"That's not the point!"

Bleiss smirked, "Then why'd you bring it up?"

Pyrrha was at least a foot taller than her partner, and so much physically stronger than Bleiss the disparity was laughable. Normally Pyrrha tried to rein herself in, but Bleiss brought out the worst in her. She stepped into Bleiss's space and shouted, "This needs to stop!"

There was a wavering moment in the Schnee's expression, but it was only a moment. Dark amusement danced through her eyes instead, "Make me."

"You think I can't?!" Pyrrha almost screamed her challenge.

Bleiss smirked, "Nope. I just know you fucking won't."

Pyrrha saw red, and Miló actually vibrated in its sheath. The powerful student closed her eyes and counted backwards from ten to regain control. When she opened her eyes, Bleiss was walking away. "Get back here! We're not done!" Pyrrha shouted starting to run after her.

Bleiss continued to walk away, waving a middle finger over her head while doing do. "Like my last boyfriend once said, 'Well, I'm done. The rest is on you.' Of course, I do remember how unsatisfying that was, so I sympathize. Still, it's going to be at least a ten more minutes before I fucking feel like continuing."

Pyrrha hated that she blushed. Gods how she hated that she blushed. Bleiss mounted her newly re-summoned Armored Gigas with a smirk at her team leader's expense. Then it stomped off the same direction Cardin had just gone. That left Pyrrha completely flat footed in a clearing all to herself.

After a second… "Oh that… that… BITCH!" Pyrrha shouted as she charged off before Bleiss tried to drown CRDL's leader in the river or something. No one could make anyone as furious as Bleiss Schnee could.

* * *

Roman was obviously pretty fucking furious at this point. Junior thought he was probably angrier than anyone else currently on Remnant. "What the fuck do you mean the robberies are your fucking fault?!" the thief shouted at the top of his lungs.

Case in point.

Junior held up a hand to mollify the furious thief and spoke the obvious, "Give me a better plan, and I'll apologize." Neo moved, the twins intervened, Junior tensed, and Jaune… yawned. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with that kid?

Roman breathed deep, ready to continue shouting profanities, but Jaune spoke next. "He can't which is why he's going for more volume." And just like that, Jaune somehow made the situation worse.

"Fuck me in the ass…" Junior might have mumbled that out loud.

Mel snickered, at Jaune's joke Junior hoped. Roman rounded on her, but Junior stood before he could say anything to his second in command. Roman was tall, but even he had to crane his neck up to look at Hei Xiong. Not that he was intimidated, in fact Roman looked like he was ready for some good old fashioned violence. Junior, not for the first time or the last time, thought Jaune's planning sometimes left some things to be desired.

"Please remain calm."

Junior was shocked to see Roman actually flinch when Jaune spoke. Junior looked at Roman and saw a flash of naked fear in the man's eyes. That fear wasn't aimed at Jaune, but it was absolutely revealed by Jaune. _Well, fuck this is a thing_. An honest expression from one of the most guarded men in Vale's underworld was definitely a thing. Junior backed off immediately, before even Roman, giving the thief the space and pride he deserved.

"I apologize Roman," Junior said as he waved Mel and Millie back. They weren't happy, but they complied. This gave Neo a clear run on him, but Junior knew she wasn't going to take it. There was some power in that. Neo would not move without orders. It was now Roman's call.

Roman looked completely flatfooted, but he waved Neo back with barely a moment's hesitation. Tension slowly seeped out of the room.

After about thirty seconds, Jaune spoke next, "Roman we just want to clear our debts and move on. We need to know why you won't let us."

Roman Torchwick hung his head. Junior thought Neo looked on the verge of crying at his defeated posture. Junior made a decision. "Mel you can stay. Millie do a perimeter check." Millie looked at the thief, nodded once and left. The fact that Neo let her spoke volumes.

Roman barked a rueful laugh, "I'm tired Junior, so fucking tired."

Junior nodded, he reached into one of his drawers, something Roman would never normally allow him to do. Under the large handgun was a bottle of thirty-year-old single malted bliss. He placed four glasses on the table, and poured a double into each.

Roman took his gratefully. Neo and Mel were a bit slower reaching for theirs. Junior then took his, and drank first. The rest followed. Junior placed the bottle on the desk within easy reach of any who wanted it. It was a weapon, but for the first time in his career in criminality, Hei Xiong was sure no one would use it as such.

"Your consultant not having one?" Roman asked.

"He's not allowed. Mel says Vomit Boy is a miserable lightweight and I need his brain functional." Jaune looked mildly offended by that, not that Junior really cared.

Roman barked another laugh, "That's quite the moniker."

Mel spoke for the first time, "Trust me. He earned it." Junior was secretly pleased. Mel was still slow to speak at these meetings, but she needed to be more vocal. She wasn't just a bodyguard anymore.

Roman laughed again and relaxed even further. Going so far to reach for the bottle and pour himself another double. Yes Roman Torchwick was actually relaxed. It was now up to Junior to find out why something that bizarre could possibly happen.

"I need dust." Junior nodded, but let Roman speak. "A lot of dust. An absurd amount of dust. And I need it fast."

Jaune spoke next, "Do you know why?"

Roman looked at him, "No idea. I just know the consequences if I fail."

"Which are?" Junior glared at Jaune for asking such a stupid question, Jaune looked back with that weird glint in his eyes.

 _Fine then, Jaune, on your head be the consequences if you keep pushing him_.

Roman noted the exchange between Junior and Jaune, then turned to look to the teen more fully. "No offense Vomit-Boy, but just how old are you?"

"Seventeen and you didn't answer my question."

Roman crossed his arms defiantly, "If I fail, I die. There, happy?"

"What about Neo?" Junior sucked in his breath as the room began to fill back up with tension.

Junior was about to kill Jaune, the gun was in his desk after all, but something odd happened. Neo walked up behind Roman and put her hand on his shoulder. As soon as she did, the last of Roman's defiance evaporated. Just like that, the other shoe dropped. Junior couldn't be sure, but he thought Roman might be silently weeping.

Jaune nodded, "I see."

Roman remained silent.

"I think we have a solution."

Roman's head snapped up. His mascara was running. Junior silently pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and placed it on the desk in front of him. Roman didn't notice however, Jaune had his undivided attention.

"We've been casing numerous businesses." Roman stared at Jaune with intent. "For a percentage of the successful take, we offer solid plans for entry and exit. There are rules for every heist of course. No rule more inviolate that any civilian that gets harmed leads to sanctions." Mel smiled politely at Roman. Junior knew Melanie Malachite wasn't someone Roman was afraid of, but evidentially so did Jaune. "We don't like to state what form those sanctions take, but our lack of further co-operation is to be expected. Heists have a near eighty percent success rate, a number that speaks for itself given some of the people we've been forced to work with."

Roman nodded, and Junior watched as someone else was put under one of Jaune's spells. It never ceased to be creepy. It was also highly effective. Jaune even once mesmerized the leader of Red Axe's closest rival. Junior still couldn't believe the treaty he walked out with after that meeting. Junior refocused his thoughts on the here and now.

Jaune was continuing, "Understand we do not take sides. If someone robs you afterwards, that is none of our concern. 'Dust is at a premium right now,' are watchwords to live by these days. Still, these are special circumstances. So we will offer a contract with very specific conditions given those circumstances."

Roman bit, "What kind of conditions?"

Jaune smiled his creepy smile, and everyone looking at it shivered. "Condition one, we wish all our debts immediately cleared upon successful completion of the operation. In exchange for that, we offer to cease issuing any plans for any dust robbery for no less than one year. Is that acceptable?"

Roman nodded, "Providing we take in enough, sure that works."

Jaune continued, "Condition two, you use or offer contacts that will help expedite the official investigation at The Club. Vale Police are dragging their feet, and Junior would very much like to go back home." Junior was a bit startled, and honestly touched by this. It hadn't even occurred to him to ask Roman for help with the matter.

Roman, eyes still locked on Jaune nodded, "That seems reasonable."

Jaune smiled, "Condition three. If it is safe for you to do so, we would like a name or description of the person who is threatening you.

Roman blinked, "You're leaving it up to me?"

Jaune nodded, "Of course. If he or she kills you for talking to us, you are just as dead as you would be if you missed your quota." Junior knew Roman was now completely toasted. Jaune was almost bullying him. The thief had conceded all power in the conversation to Jaune. Like previously mentioned, this wasn't the first time Junior had seen it happen, but it was awe inspiring all the same. It had to be a semblance, one that fucked with your brain.

"C-Can I get back to you on that?" Roman actually stuttered those words.

"Of course," Jaune replied. "Condition four is a private concern of mine, and my fee for these negotiations."

Junior suddenly scowled, _What the fuck?_

Roman looked to Junior, and Junior only half-heartedly tried to hide his expression. Jaune had just overstepped. Some things weren't done, especially in front of outsiders. Eventually Junior nodded to Roman, and Roman stared at Jaune. "And your personal condition is?"

"I would like someone to unlock my aura."

Junior did his level best not to gape. Mel wasn't so quick, and Neo noticed her counterpart's lapse. Roman looked honestly shook. Of course, Junior felt honestly shook. This kid didn't have his aura unlocked? Seriously? Didn't he mention he wanted to be huntsman that first night when he was drunk off his ass?

For the first time since Junior had met Jaune, there was a bit of nerves in the kid's expression. Roman looked like he didn't believe Jaune on a fundamental level, but slowly Roman nodded nonetheless. "Okay. Weird, but okay."

Jaune nodded, and that strange façade of his clamped back down, "Thank you." Jaune then looked at Junior, and after a moment's hesitation, Junior reached in the cabinets behind him. Behind that, there was a safe. When it was opened, Junior handed Roman several heavy and detailed files.

Roman was hooked the instant he laid eyes on the first page. Junior knew it, Jaune knew, hell everyone in the room including Torchwick himself knew it. Still the offer needed to be clearly stated. So Roman asked, "How much dust are we talking about?"

"All of it." Mel stated with admirable aplomb.

Jaune smiled, Roman sagged in relief even as he read. Junior hid a small grin. It was almost over. It really was almost over. Then Hei noticed Neo.

Neo, well Neo looked downright ecstatic.

That can't be a good thing.

* * *

Much later, an exhausted Jaune got a call from his sister. He forced some energy into his voice. It was probably midmorning in Argus. "Hey Saf, how's Terra doing? Is the baby here?"

" _Any day now! Terra's fine, though she's at the point where she just wants the kid out! I guess kicking is no longer cute."_ Saffron laughed. Jaune smiled wanely in response.

"I'm glad she's doing well. Do you mind if I put you on speaker, sis?" Jaune absently thumbed through the local crime section of the paper?

" _Not at all!"_

Jaune smiled as he set the scroll down and began cross referencing the news with Miltia's own reports. Saffron said something, and Jaune, who was now frowning very hard, missed it.

"Sorry sis, I didn't hear that."

" _You sound tired. Like really tired."_

Jaune sighed so Saffron could hear him, "I'm just a bit stressed. This new job… well it's a big responsibility." The news article spoke, _Elderly couple killed in dust heist gone wrong_. Jaune double checked his clients list. Nope, not one of his.

" _I can't believe you got that kind of job at your age! I know you and dad won't talk, but even he was impressed."_

Jaune jogged some notes half-listening. Not one of his, but still his responsibility. "Sis, do you mind not talking about dad? Please?"

Saffron sighed over the line, " _Listen Jaune, he means well."_

"Saf."

" _Yeah?"_

"Last warning, I will hang up the scroll on you."

" _Fine!"_

Jaune added the news clipping to his own private folder. That made seven. Jaune had now killed seven people. "What are you going to name it?"

" _It?"_

Jaune checked his private funds, there should be enough, "You're the ones that decided you didn't want to know until the baby was born."

" _Still, calling my baby, you're niece or nephew, 'It,' feels wrong."_

Jaune hummed to himself. She hadn't answered his question, which meant she was dodging it. He inwardly sighed, there was no real reason to force the issue. Saffron was seldom this energetic, the baby must be really close. "Sorry, Saf. Can I ask you a dumb question?"

His sister paused, " _Sure, I guess."_

"Do you know what aura is?"

There was an exasperated noise made on the line, " _Damn it Jaune! I thought you were going to ask something stupid and awkward, like that time dad asked if we flipped a coin over who was having our child. Remember? Back when Terra and I decided to start our family!?"_

Jaune smiled to himself, "Yet you keep pushing for me to make up with him. You didn't answer the question."

" _Of course I know what aura is! Dad's a huntsman after all!"_

Jaune nodded to himself, "I didn't know what aura was until a couple months ago."

Saffron paused, " _Really? That's weird."_

"I agree."

" _Is that why you're so mad at dad?"_

Jane hummed again, "I think it's symptomatic. Hey, Sis?"

" _Yeah?"_

"I hate to cut this short, but I really have a lot to do."

" _Fine. Promise me you won't stay mad at him forever."_

"I promise. And an Arc never goes back on their word." Forever was a really, really long time after all.

" _I love you."_

"Love you too." Jaune hung up gently.

Seven innocent people. Jaune had traded seven innocent people for the lives of Miltia, Melanie, and Junior. Gods help him.

Crocea Mors stood silently in the corner, and Jaune remembered something his grandmother used to say. " _The gods help those that help themselves."_

A plan for redemption had not yet occurred to Jaune, but he prayed that one day soon it would.

* * *

 **Idiot's Note:**

 **Hello, sorry I wrote an earlier chapter, but kind of ended up being the stop-gap to keep the story rolling. Better people will be along shortly. Thank you for reading.**

 **Princess is a color by the way. Color #EDB8C7. Nora would approve the choice. Be well and safe.**

* * *

 **L/N: Hopefully we can get some fresh faces in here for the next chapter, but hopefully this will be enough to tide you guys over for a while!**


	5. Wicked

**Wicked**

* * *

 **By quijibo7609**

* * *

Roman was now a mere twenty days from his deadline. Time was running out, and Roman was freaking the fuck out. Made even more panicked now that he had a sense of hope. Hope in the form of confirmed locations for seven significant dust caches inside Vale. The thought of smoldering yellow eyes made it extremely difficult for the thief to not rush out and seize every single one of them immediately. To grab at those seven threads like any drowning man might grab a lifeline.

Junior was firm though. Roman needed to wait. To be patient.

Fuck Hei.

Junior didn't have some sociopathic flame wielding thunder-cunt standing over him, holding an hour glass, and cheerfully turning a spit now did he! The kid—consultant-though had been very clear. In Roman's mind, that wasn't a small thing, and gave him pause. Junior's asset was downright spooky at times. Even if he had only just now unlocked his aura. An unlocking of aura that depleted Roman's own reserves so badly he briefly staggered under the rush. Because of course the kid—blonde-was going to wind up instantly dangerous. What else did Roman really expect considering his life at this point? So, because Junior's spook was well, spooky, Roman complied with his demands. Thus Torchwick waited. Roman had waited nearly eight days, too preoccupied by the big score to even try and hustle some smaller ones. What was the point anyways? They weren't the things that were going to save him.

Right?

That was a very bad mistake on Roman's part. Perhaps even an unforgivable one since Roman already knew he was being watched. That was the thing wasn't it? Fear was a distraction that could cost anyone basically anything. Fear made one preoccupied. Sloppy. What happened next really was to be expected.

To be fair about one more detail, Roman's faith in his danger sense had taken something of a hit recently. Junior's "Consultant" definitely let some doubt creep into the back of Roman's mind about his instinct's former ironclad dependability. Seriously, that kid—blonde guy—was still a zero on Roman's threat meter, Roman's threat mete no longer considering gargantuan aura levels dangerous. Seriously that nut job had a lot of aura. Like an absurd amount considering there was no way he could have developed any of it before hand.

Wait…

Could you relock aura? Roman wondered. It really would explain some of the vibes he was getting off that kid-Jaune. Truly considering this absurd possibility, Roman inserted his key and entered one of his warehouses through a small service entrance. Like previously mentioned. Roman was scared. Preoccupied. He had lost faith in his danger sense.

And Roman was all too sloppy. Because the warehouse was empty. Still.

And very wrong.

Second guessing his danger instincts or not, Roman couldn't ignore those instincts screaming at him when he opened the side door. The eerie silence instantly pulled his mind from his thoughts of dangerous teenagers. A dark empty floor and utter stillness were not expected, and thus much more immediate threats.

Sure these kinds of moments made for great scenery in certain kinds of movies. Movies where the bad guy was keeping a low profile, but there was this one renegade copper that had a hunch.

But that was only in movies.

There were several ways to hide a needle in a haystack. A good way, maybe not the best but still a good way, to make sure someone never found the needle in the haystack was by painting that needle the color of hay. So Roman's fronts all kept up appearances. This building received regular deliveries, and shipped products all over Vale with some battered old vans. This warehouse even had an angry and slightly overworked single parent answering the office phones. If you really looked though, the building just had remarkably few crates. It also had an exceptional security system. The fact that quite a few felons were working the floor was usually the last realization an unwanted interloper received. But interlopers almost never happened. Because the warehouse made every attempt to blend in. So it was seldom silent. It tried to look like just another piece of hay.

It was never dark.

Because a dark warehouse would eventually set off warning flags to the wrong people. It would shout too everyone that something was not right here. And something not right was potentially dangerous.

Where the fuck was Neo?!

"Hello Roman." Torchwick swallowed when he heard that voice. Throat suddenly like sandpaper, Roman turned. Cinder Fall gracefully stepped out of the deeper gloom of the building. Beautiful, alluring, and oh so fucking dangerous. "You've fallen behind schedule." Her mouth smiled with the charming invitation of a sadist, but her eyes flashed with something darker and much crueler. "This is not an acceptable circumstance, Roman."

Flames danced in Cinder Fall's eyes, her clothing began to shimmer. Roman's scanned for any hope in the darkness. Something? Someone? Anyone out there? Little Red? It was time to be the hero! The glass of Cinder's shoes cracked and those shards rose to hover dangerously around her. Slowly so that Roman could take in every detail, those shards coalesced into a wicked blade. She used the reflection in the shimmering obsidian to casually inspect a nail. "I hope you don't mind, but I encouraged your staff to be elsewhere for the evening." Her cruel smile widened. "Just in case you were wondering."

Roman swallowed, then proceeded to beg, "Cinder please…"

"You really should have guessed I was watching you Roman."

Roman slowly backed away. Cinder, methodically, paced him. "Please. Just listen to me—"

"Watching you fall further and further behind."

Roman tried again, "I _do_ have a plan."

Roman felt the cool metal of the door behind him. Cinder's smile dared him to risk it. Cinder's smile always dared him to risk it.

When Roman decided not to, that smile faded. What replaced it was much worse.

Roman closed his eyes.

"At first I was patient with you Roman," Cinder started indulgently. "I understood the influx of dust robberies were making things… unexpectedly difficult. I respected your perseverance and dedication though. Even if I did find your imagination lacking." Cinder's voice took on the tone of command, "Look me in the eyes when I am talking to you Roman." Roman did so. Cinder's smile somehow became even more murderous.

"That's better." She paused. She somehow sighed through that murderous expression. "I was patient with you Roman. So very patient. Too patient perhaps. Because last week, abruptly, you stopped trying." The sorrowful tone was a lie, Roman could see the joyful gleam in her eyes as she continued. "You have no idea how angry I am about that." Roman swallowed. If he held any faith in the option, he would have thrown open the door and ran at that moment. But he didn't have faith in that. The attempt would only make her laugh.

Cinder's eyes danced as she relished her hold over him. The fear was something Roman knew he couldn't hide from her, and she loved him knowing that. There was hate as well. The hate Roman held for his own impotence, even as his life hung in the balance. She loved that he couldn't hide that either. Cinder lifted the obsidian blade. The sword now faintly shimmering with heat. With a cruel smile, she laid it gently on his shoulder. Roman's jacket began to smolder and Roman himself tried not to scream. To her brief disappointment, he was successful. The glee left her eyes briefly to be replaced with honest anger. Disappointment is not something Cinder dealt with well, and her smile turned completely black.

"Roman, I think it's time you understood just how absolutely furious I am with you."

She stepped back. Roman sagged a bit as the blade lost contact with his chest. Briefly, he even considered praying. But the brother gods proved themselves unnecessary because that was when Neo decided to show up.

Almost like she pranced out of the very ether itself, Neo jovially pirouetted in between Roman and Cinder. The tiny woman spun gracefully into position. Only Roman briefly saw the flash of Neo's concern before his protégé's expression morphed into its typical Cheshire smile. Neo gently planted her parasol's point at the floor, and oh so slowly opened it at her feet. Hush didn't really look like a weapon, but the way Neo always held it made sure everyone instantly understood it was one. Ever so reluctantly, Cinder's eyes shifted to gauge the diminutive form between her and her not yet on fire subordinate. Roman saw dark threat, curiosity, and a brief flash of doubt war in Cinder's eyes.

It was very hard to tell which won. At least until the shards of glass ceased being a sword coalesced back into shoes again. With sensual grace, Cinder casually stepped back into them. Sensual grace mind you, not casual. Cinder didn't take her eyes off of Neo for even a moment.

"So very, very furious." Cinder whispered softly, her repeating herself being the biggest tell she was now on guard and wary.

"Cinder I know I—"

Cinder Fall silenced Roman Torchwick with a look, but at least it wasn't quite as lethal as her last one. "Fortunately for you Roman, I have come bearing a solution that will get you somewhat back on schedule. In spite of your incompetence." Ever so briefly dark joy and spite danced in her eyes, before the fact Roman was in fact necessary dawned in her head. She continued, "Providing last week's unacceptable holiday has reached its end. It is at an end isn't it Roman?"

Roman waited a moment before nodding. Cinder smiled in response, but honestly what flooded Roman at this moment was relief. Cinder wanted to control the conversation. Letting her do so would probably calm her the fuck down. Calm enough to make this situation resolvable without a fight Roman was pretty sure he would lose. When he thought Cinder composed enough he tried again, "Cinder I—"

She smiled cruelly. "That doesn't sound like a thank you Roman."

Roman oh so briefly closed his eyes. Mostly to hide the utter relief that would have shown in them otherwise. Catty and self-important was basically Cinder's default setting, and he knew how to best appease that setting. So his next words were basically routine. "Thank you Cinder."

Her cruel smile hardened. "For?"

Roman had long ago swallowed his pride when it came to dealing with Cinder Fall. "For helping me get back on schedule."

"And why did I have to do this Roman?"

Roman was already saying the words before she finished her question. "Because I am incompetent."

Cinder's expression was frankly beatific. "And?"

Roman knew way better than to roll his eyes. "Lazy."

"I'm glad we can agree." Cinder's cruel smile flashed one more time. "Next time I need to help you Roman, trust me when I say you will end up begging me for kindness. From your knees. Do you understand me Roman?"

"Yes."

"Good." Cinder woman's golden gaze shifted at the last moment though. Revealing her confidence was, at least a little bit, false. If Roman wasn't absolutely fucking terrified of her, he would of smirked at how bad a liar Cinder actually was. Neo was completely unnerving her. Still Cinder, if she was anything, was arrogant.

"Now explain your little friend."

Roman knew there could be no mistakes here. Neo was damned good, but she had semi revealed her hidden ace with how she intervened. An ace Roman would still risk his life to protect. He would do this because, for some reason, Neo would do the same for him and his. Come what may, Roman was going to give Neo a clean shot at getting out of this shit-storm, whether she wanted that shot or not.

Roman stepped forward with roguish aplomb. He didn't side-eye Neo, even though he wanted to, he just trusted her to play a part. He smiled his best salesman's smile and grandly introduced his accomplice. "Cinder Fall, meet Neo Politan. She's an underground mercenary here in Vale. Quite skilled. Very highly sought after in certain circles." Roman decided to feed Cinder's ego a bit more. "I hired her to help fill in for my well-known inadequacies. Unfortunately negotiations were a little extended since she can prove difficult to get into contact with. Even for me."

Cinder looked dismissively at Neo, Roman glanced away ever so briefly when Neo coquetted her head in response. Roman swallowed. Roman was now worried because he knew Neo's stance. Neo was fucking pissed. So pissed, this might go sideways quick. Cinder, for her part, narrowed her eyes. Still obviously unable to get a read on Neo.

Cinder stared hard at Neo. Like it was a contest of wills or something. It probably was. After a moment Cinder said, "I have doubts." Cinder took her eyes off Neo first and Roman swallowed when she did, still unsure if Neo would just go for it. Cinder saw Roman's nervous expression and misunderstood. Cinder sharpened her gaze, "If she's sought after, explain why haven't I heard of her. "

Roman quickly glanced at Neo. Neo shifted weight saucily to her favored leg. Roman's hands began to sweat and he swallowed again.

And the pause became awkward.

Cinder's eyes flashed over Neo's head. "I asked you a question Roman."

Roman breathed deep and decided to pray to the brother's after all. "Show her Neo." Neo glanced back at him, he saw the naked rage in her eyes. Neo, please, _please_ be careful. Neo nodded angrily once, and Roman briefly felt his knees unhinge as Neo shifted her appearance into a form that instantly ratcheted up the already explosive tension in the room.

Suddenly there were two Cinder Falls in the room. Roman couldn't actually see one's face, but he knew the shorter was smirking in naked challenge at the taller. The pair of yellow eyes Roman could see instantly narrowed with rage.

A solitary finger snap echoed in the silent warehouse.

Roman saw a flash of silver hair. Some kid—young man—fucking-not-quite-adult-yet-person-exploded out of the gloom. Roman had a hunter's instincts and training, but had to give Silver some credit because he was basically on top of them in an instant. Cinder's clone, well she looked almost bored. Silver kicked high catching nothing but air. He then swung his weight around, harnessing his errant momentum into a whistling back fist that still missed the smaller Cinder by a mile. He kept spinning and leveled a gunshot blast from his boots that dissipated on Neo's already perfectly placed parasol. With a yawn, Little Cinder shrugged at Silver, obviously asking him if he was going to start trying anytime soon.

The teenaged boy smirked in response.

Roman swallowed as Neo failed to react as Silver walked forward and straight up punched her in the face. Neo flew backwards, her cloaking illusion of Cinder exploding into shards. With a roll and a snarl, Mr. Stabby slid free of Hush. Roman noticed Neo's eyes weren't tracking the teen quite right. He moved to yell warning only for Cinder to manifest a fist of fire as implicit threat.

Roman almost yelled anyways. The only thing that stopped him was his absolute trust in his protégé.

That trust was about to be thoroughly tested. Silver swarmed Neo. His blows were competent, but not anything Neo couldn't normally dodge while taking a nap. Still, every single fucking one of them landed. With a mocking laugh, Silver grabbed his smaller opponent. There was tangle of limbs, as the grappled Neo's fighting instincts flared, but she was still too confused and defensive to do much more than kick off of him.

Silver spoke for the first time. "I guess you need some more." Neo spun on the voice, obviously not trusting her eyes, but it wasn't close to enough. She ate a heavy kick that was so telegraphed Roman could have dodged it as a toddler. Silver laughed again. Neo rose, she was swaying badly now. Silver walked over and almost calmly kneed Neo in the stomach, forcing her to collapse on all fours. This time when Neo rose, it was only to her knees.

Roman looked at Cinder and silently begged. She smirked in response.

Neo's eyes were glazed. Silver laughed. He stepped back, bounced up and down as if just loosening up, then drove a vicious front kick into her chest. There was resounding sound of a gun blast when the boot connected, and Neo smashed violently into a wall, slowly collapsing to floor. Eyes vacant, she spat a rather large globule of blood, but didn't even bother trying to rise.

Cinder smiled sweetly at Roman. This was the moment where Roman truly knew what hate was. He had thought he understood it before. He thought he hated his father. He thought he hated his old team. No, that wasn't hate. This, _this,_ was fucking hate. Hate strong enough for Roman to overcome his fear. Who knows what would have happened next, other than Roman drifting away as a pile of ashes, but that was when the kid fucked up.

Silver grabbed Neo by her throat, hoisted her high, and then slammed her hard into the wall. He looked at his master like Cinder was the best owner a dog could ever have. Roman nodded at silver, and even smiled. Silver didn't see the smile, too focused on his master but Cinder did, and she tensed immediately.

The dazed hopeless look in Neo's eyes shifted rapidly to glee. Roman barked a loud laugh for both him and his apprentice. Cinder spun at the idiot who was now stupidly looking at Roman after he laughed. Roman couldn't quite resist telling Silver something he about to learn anyways.

"Kid. Whoever you are, however your semblance works, you just royally fucked up." The kid blinked at him, so Roman explained using small words. "Neo now knows where you are." Silver looked at the euphoric face of Neo, a face that wasn't nearly as battered as it was a few moments ago. With a smirk Roman reached into his coat and pulled out a hand-wrapped Cohibas cigar. A flick, a flash, and a solid puff, Roman settled back to watch the show.

Cinder's face, after all, was portraying all kinds of interesting things at this moment.

There was a showy flash of light when Neo began. More an artistic bit of flare than anything truly necessary. Over the dumbass's head, an illusionary pink blindfold suddenly appeared. Of course the blindfold being illusionary didn't make it any less effective. It did, however, make it much harder to remove. As Silver quickly realized when his hands passed through it. With a snarl he lashed out blindly with a heavy punch.

Neo's torso twisted in a way any contortionist would envy as she leveraged her lower body completely out of the way of a desperate body shot. A body shot Silver put all his weight behind. A body shot that hit nothing but unyielding concrete. Roman smirked as he heard a knuckle pop, proving Silver's aura wasn't quite prepared to deal with such an unyielding object. Silver quickly dropped Neo. He rapidly stepped back. He obviously expected once contact with Neo was severed he could redeploy his one and only trick. Neo strode forward, was somewhat confused by something, and suddenly stopped. Silent maniacal laughter somehow filled the empty warehouse. Neo glanced briefly around the gloom, didn't quite see what she was looking for, then with a shrug, she trapped Silver inside her semblance. A shimmering curtain, complete with ice cream cones emblazoned on it, formed a twenty plus foot ring around the combatants. Roman didn't quite understand, but he guessed Neo must have figured something important out. Roman smiled. Silver deserved everything about to come his way, and a pissed off Neo was a fucked up thing for someone to deserve. Roman chuckled around his cigar. Silver was really going to start rethinking his life at any moment.

Roman closed his eyes for a few seconds of well-earned bliss once the beautiful sounds of heavy thuds and masculine shrieks began echoing inside the warehouse. Some nasty cracking sounded. There was shriek. All of it, pure symphony. Roman opened his eyes to something else that was beautiful. Cinder stood rigidly straight. Her hands were still faintly glowing. Roman wanted to laugh, because he knew she didn't even realize they still were. Cinder looked at Roman, not remotely able to hide her shock at how the tide turned.

Roman smiled politely at her, "This might take a bit. Neo likes to take her time with revenge."

Cinder's eyes flashed with anger and defeat, emotions she obviously believed she had hidden well given what she attempted next.

With a yawn that was pure affectation, Cinder's hands stopped glowing. With an indulgent shrug she said, "That's enough Roman."

Torchwick looked at Cinder Fall. Looked at her hard. He basked in his hate of her. Reveled in how much that hate muted his fear. Roman stopped smiling and took a long puff on his cigar.

Five.

Cinder frowned. "Roman I said that's enough."

Four.

Cinder's eyes flashed. Dangerous. Lethal. All a sham. A child's bluff played badly. Roman didn't think Silver meant anything personal to Cinder, but Roman was willing to bet everything that Silver was very useful to Cinder Fall.

Three.

The boy gurgled, then moaned. There was the definite sound of someone being stabbed. Cinder's looked to where the sounds took place, but didn't quite dare risk stepping past the curtain.

Two.

Cinder looked at Roman. Roman allowed none of it to show on his face, but he so enjoyed the bitch's look when she silently asked. Cinder couldn't do it aloud, her pride was too great. Roman wished he could make her ask aloud, but as strong as Roman's hate was, his decisions tempered be his fear. Fear in what Cinder might do to Neo if Torchwick didn't step in. Still, Roman waited one more second so that Cinder understood that in this moment, she ordered nothing. Fucking nothing!

She was only asking.

One.

"Neo. I think he's had enough."

Neo's illusionary curtains shattered. Revealing a semiconscious kid on the floor bleeding rather profusely. Roman was a bit surprised to find Silver missing a leg. Mr. Stabby slid back into Neo's parasol before the entire weapon disappeared in a puff of smoke. Roman wasn't quite sure where Neo kept Hush when it wasn't out, but also believed she had long ago earned the rights to her privacy. With a kind of absent curiosity, Neo bent to pick up Silver's severed leg. After some fiddling with it, a gunshot sounded. The round cracked off the ground not five feet in front of Cinder. Cinder almost snarled. Neo shrugged in an "oops" way as her only response. Then as a final insult, Neo twirled the whole mechanical contraption almost like it was a pistol and she was Vacuan sheriff ridding the desert of outlaws. Then as absently as she picked it up, Neo dropped it on Silver's head as she walked past. She smiled sweetly at Cinder, bowing gracefully. Then stepped firmly, and deliberately, between Cinder and Roman.

Roman knew a cue whenever he saw one. "Like I was saying. Quite skilled. Highly competent. Highly sought after. And unfortunately difficult to find. I admit I probably should have mentioned Neo was a dedicated sadist, but I honestly didn't think it was going to come up. I'll remember to lead with that next time I introduce her though. Just in case something similar happens."

Cinder's eyes narrowed. She looked at the beaten boy on the ground with a noticeable lack of empathy. Cinder Fall then smiled pleasantly, and oh so falsely, at Roman. "I think that would be best. Now then, despite your admittedly keen eye for personnel, let us discuss some animalistic friends of mine and a substantial dust shipment due at the Vale docks this Saturday."

Graciously, Roman led Cinder to the building's offices.

Emerald Sustrai emerged from the shadows to look at Mercury. She wanted to smile. She really wanted to smile. She would have smiled, but Emerald had seen Cinder walking away. Emerald saw Cinder's barely contained fury. Now was definitely not the time to smile. Not when Cinder Fall was just shown up by the likes of Roman Torchwick.

Not the time to smile at all.

Merc wasn't really in a bad way. It was pretty bad, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with stitches and aura boosters. That little monster hadn't decided to be lethal. Just very, very painful. The worst was this Neo character's decision to stab Merc in the ass several times.

Okay, Emerald smiled a bit about that.

Still Emerald slowly, carefully, helped Mercury get to his feet. Or foot. With an absent scowl she picked up his prosthetic with her free hand. This almost caused Mercury to fall back to the floor, and wouldn't that have been a shame?

Emerald tried to hide it, but honestly a lot of her hostility was because she was a little intimidated herself. Somehow, Roman's henchman had figured it out. Emerald needed to be able to see her opponent to influence their mind. The weird curtain thing that popped out of nowhere prevented that. She wondered if it was when she tried to recloak Mercury. After the little hellion blindfolded him. It must have been. Emerald had screwed up in some way that revealed the game and that had been enough. A detail. A wrong impulse. Who knows? All Emerald was sure of was that whatever happened beyond that illusionary curtain proved, with absolute certainty, that Mercury Black was no match for Roman's newest pet.

Merc whispered something.

Emerald scowled, "What? I'm in not in the mood right now."

Merc laughed a dry rusty laugh, then said a bit louder. "She's better than you." He again laughed. "A lot better."

Emerald scowled harder. "We'll see."

Merc again laughed his rusty laugh. "Cinder already has."

Emerald really wanted to drop him, but didn't quite dare.

* * *

Jaune sat in his little office and tried to come up with a solution to his dilemma. The plan was complicated. It would require seven different operations in total to succeed. If five of the seven led to scores, that should net them enough to clear Roman's quota. This wasn't going to be an easy feat.

Not easy at all.

If the operations could be performed one at a time, well then this would be fairly simple. Well simpler by comparison anyways. That was the problem though, because these thefts couldn't happen one at a time. They had to happen virtually simultaneously with each other. After all, if the Axe Gang just started picking off caches in order, well then everyone and their brother would be able to smell a rat. Which would quickly escalate thing into open warfare in Vale's underworld. Granted a gang war would probably make things easier for Jaune overall, but that wasn't an option in Jaune's mind. Jaune was not willing to risk any more civilians being hurt by his actions.

Thus Jaune decided scapegoats were necessary. Jaune had even started lining up scapegoat one to help take the heat off of the Red Axes once the dominos started falling. This scapegoat was more commonly known as the Vale Police Department. One of the rougher gangs, The Five Fists, had recently killed an elderly couple by hitting a SDC corporate store. Jaune originally offered them a plan for hitting a similar store operated by one of the SDC's still functional competitors. The Fists didn't like the Axe Gang's asking price of twenty percent, though. Also, since they were run by a faunus boss, they really hated anything Schnee related.

So they hatched their own plan. A dumb move. A very dumb move. Because of the White Fang, the SDC had all kinds of armed guards. Faunus charging at them wearing masks only made it easier for those guards to enact the SDC practice a shooting first and asking questions later. Still, those idiots did somehow get away with two half-loaded delivery vans. A small take compared to what Jaune had offered them, made worse when all idiots involved (SDC and gang-lander) immediately starting shooting. Several people were hurt, and tragically, one elderly couple that was simply having breakfast across the street died in the crossfire before paramedics could arrive.

Jaune's jaw set. A comparatively small stash guarded by dangerous idiots. Jaune was almost smiling when he hit upon the idea of feeding the Five Fists to the Vale police. Especially since the VPD was absolutely starving for a win the moment. The police really needed a moral boost right about now. One could feel the unrest spreading throughout the city, and everyone knew what that meant. Which led to only more unrest as people began staring worriedly at the walls. Jaune shuddered at that thought, and tried hard not to think about just how much fire he was playing with.

Jaune's stomach gnawed at him. Saffron called him this morning. Little Adrian arrived last night. Things were getting substantially more real. Hopefully, once the VPD hit upon the breadcrumb trail Millie was leaving for them to follow, the city would finally get its win and tensions would begin to ease. After all, Jaune knew the VPD were going to hit the Five Fists with everything they had to help ensure the city understood things were still in hand.

A showey show of force should be enough to keep the Grimm away… right?

Unfortunately for Jaune, the Five Fists getting led away in handcuffs was still the easy part of the plan. It was more or less just a time piece to set all other parts of the operational schedule into motion. A schedule that only got trickier. After all, most criminals weren't stupid. Even if everything else Jaune was putting in motion panned out perfectly, well it wouldn't be overly long before individuals that just lost all that product they had been stealing to start searching for answers. That would quickly lead them to the largest underground information broker in the city. One or two dust supplies being attacked would leave room for the Red Axes to spin a relatively plausible story on. But six? Once word got out that six gangs were hit, well there could only be so many organizations that could pull that kind of stunt and hide that amount of dust. And if anyone knew who they were, it was Junior.

If he didn't… well wasn't that just a teensy bit suspicious?

So Jaune needed one more patsy. He needed some person or organization that could conceivably hide this amount of product, and for the life of him he couldn't come up with anything concrete. His head was starting to hurt, so he closed his eyes. Breathing slow and deep to keep calm.

The moment tension started to fade, Mel forced him back to here and now. Well not forced, but she definitely distracted him.

Melanie Malachite strode into Jaune's office and utterly collapsed into what they now both considered her chair. Mel rubbed her eyes and groaned audibly. Obviously Mel was tired, but Jaune knew that look. He smiled. To be honest, Jaune was grateful for any distraction right about now.

"I know that face. Millie driving you bonkers again?"

Melanie Malachite briefly stopped trying to push her palms through the top half of her face. Ever so slightly, Mel raised her head so she could briefly look Jaune in the eyes. Finally, after briefly considering her options, Mel nodding wearily then somehow sank even further into the chair's overly plush cushions.

Her voice could only be described as frustrated. "She just has no gods damned subtlety. She just up and cut off the guy's pinkies. The guy is in the fucking hospital. What the hell is she going to do if he flubs the story and gets Vale Police looking at us again!"

Jaune looked at his schedule and frowned. "The baker? Why would Militia do that to the baker?"

Mel waved her hands nonchalantly in Jaune's general direction, "No not the eight o'clock. He was good to his word and had his payment in hand when she showed up. She did scare him a bit, but that was all. I'm talking about the pusher down the street you wanted evicted."

Jaune folded his arms. "He rats Millie out, his supplier will vanish. That will be the end of things for him given he was already in over his head. Also, it's hard for me to get upset over a guy who sold infused dust to middle schoolers."

Mel shrugged, far less concerned about the ethics involved. "Aren't you the guy who once said, 'Supply fulfills demand. Lack of supply simply drives it.'"

Jaune shrugged himself, although honestly a bit annoyed. That quote had sounded so perfect the first time he used it on Junior. "Yes I did, but I'm very willing to accept that the cost of meeting certain demands leads to a lack of pinkies." Mel looked at Jaune. Jaune sighed, "Okay. I'll talk to Militia and maybe get her working on something other than enforcement. She really is good at it though. The men honestly respect her."

Mel chuckled briefly. "Yeah I know. She's coming into her own." Mel paused to consider, "Don't pull her just yet, okay? Tell her to be more careful. I'll get Hei to do so as well." Jaune opened his mouth but Mel waved him off. "I know she'll know it's me and probably get pissed off about me stepping on her toes. Still, if you end it by insisting on her doing her thing she'll probably start checking herself on her own." There was a pregnant pause, "Gods, I am starting to sound like you these days."

Jaune honestly wasn't sure how to take that. "Thanks… I think?"

Mel chuckled a bit louder. "In other news, the refrigeration contractor for the florist is lined up and scheduled. Should be done by the end of the day. Leave it to you to strong arm Hei into having their walk-in fixed."

Jaune yawned. Junior had grumbled a little, but honestly hadn't put up much of a fuss over the issue. He was coming around to the way Jaune saw such matters these days. Jaune still felt the need to point out what mattered most. "Their insurance was paid up and they were current on their rent. The contract is quite clear."

Mel laughed, "Sometimes, despite all the fucking evidence to the contrary, I don't think you really understand how things like protection are supposed to work."

Jaune looked at her hard, "How much trouble have you had with collections since we started honoring our side of the agreement."

"A guy did lose his pinkies today."

Jaune half smiled, "That wasn't collections. Other than the baker, when was the last time you had to send Militia on a shake down?

Mel laughed harder, "And then you make me feel like it's I who doesn't understand how things like protection are supposed to work." With a sigh, Melanie Malachite slowly began to sit properly in her chair. Slowly being the operative word. It always proved to be a bit of a process with her. "How goes the planning. You still feeling stonewalled?"

Jaune shrugged. Mel knew the score, and often had some insights. "Yeah. You agree we need more than just the VPD. If the Police launch a raid? Well raids happens, and that's the cost of doing business. No one would suspect us either. Everyone knows we're keeping the hell away from the VPD for the foreseeable future."

Mel nodded, "But we need someone else to pin this on. Someone everyone is willing to believe is both capable of stealing and holding onto, a shit ton of dust." Mel sighed, "You sure we don't just pin this on Torchwick? Hard to feel bad for him since he is the center of this shit storm."

Jaune raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure Roman suddenly becoming the absolute focus of every one of Vale's morally flexible citizens will go over well."

"That afraid of Neo are we?"

Jaune thought on it a moment, then shook his head. "Not really no."

Mel raised an eyebrow, "Wow, get your aura unlocked and aren't we suddenly cocky?"

Jaune sighed at the absurd statement. "Yes Melanie. I am now convinced I can defeat Neo, in spite of the fact that your sister spends half our training sessions pointing at me and laughing." Jaune looked Mel in the eyes, "Has Roman told us who is pushing him yet?"

Mel rolled her eyes, "If he did, you would know." Mel frowned, obviously not liking whatever shadow figure was actually driving this chaos forward. "Not much we can do though. You did give him the choice in the matter."

Jaune accepted the critique with a nod. "I got greedy on the other points and thought he would cave without risking any balks on matters going forward. My mistake."

Mel made a very insincere 'oh' face. "Did the mighty Consultant actually flub a negotiation?"

Jaune groaned, "Please don't call me that."

"The Mighty Vomit Boy then!"

Jaune groaned louder, but he did laugh a bit. Mel was never going to let him live that down. Still the room sobered quickly. "Mel we're running out of time, especially since we had to pull the trigger with Militia and start winding the clock on the Five Fists. After we get the dust, we do not want to be in the crosshairs of whomever is bending Roman over." Jaune closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "A bit of inspiration would be nice."

Mel raised an inquiring eyebrow. Her smile became teasing. "Would you settle for a bit of distraction instead?"

Jaune swallowed noticeably, this wasn't what he was really asking about, but it had his undivided attention. Jaune closed his eyes, breathed in deep, and embraced something thrilling but not wholly pleasant. Then Junior's consultant opened his eyes, "So what exactly is your offer.

Mel's smile turned predatory.

* * *

Roman waited until Cinder left. As soon as he was sure she was gone. He pushed aura into his hand and slammed it straight through the desk. Neo shook her head, but wasn't remotely startled.

Cinder's plan was stupid. Stupid and complicated. Completely reliant on amateurs. Amateurs who were neither loyal to Roman nor Cinder herself. But Cinder Fall WOULD force Torchwick to follow through with it. Her belief was in her eyes, and Roman knew better than force the issue here and now.

Roman sat down and briefly, very briefly, allowed himself some self-pity. Gods it was a stupid plan. Almost as stupid as using a damned bullhead to pick up a few thugs performing a smash and grab.

…

Well okay that blonde huntress with the wand ended up making Roman rather happy Cinder was there for that one and only moment in Torchwick's life. Cinder hadn't been happy though. Not when all her efforts had been thwarted by some red themed twerp in a combat skirt.

Roman shook that off. He narrowed his eyes and focused on Neo. He walked over to the wall and deliberately dimmed the lights in the office.

She cocked her head in response.

Roman frowned. "Show me."

Neo's smugly beatific smile faded. She looked at him confusedly.

"Neo, I'm in no mood." Roman looked her hard in the eye. "Show me."

Neo sighed, but nodded. Her small frame cracked, then crumpled apart. She was no longer the serene and pristine form that kept Cinder stewing in doubt during their negotiation. She was dirty. She was battered. Dried blood had congealed out of her nose, and ran down her neckline. Left untouched by her because Neo obviously couldn't risk flicking it away. Somehow, someway, Neo brought down her body's aura defenses just so she could hold onto her semblance a little longer.

Gods, her reserves had somehow kept her semblance going for another entire hour. Roman felt hate flow into him as he looked at the only person left on Remnant that truly mattered.

After a moment, Roman quietly turned around and pulled a full medical kit from the office wall. Without look at her he said, "Shirt. Off. Now."

Neo didn't even argue. Pretty soon she was sitting on the small coffee table in nothing but her pink bra and blood stained pants. Neo's torso was almost as bad as her face. One side of her ribcage looked like one entire bruise, but as Roman gently ran his fingers over her ribs, he felt nothing click. One or two might be cracked, probably were cracked, but nothing felt completely broken or floating. He'd need a doctor to make sure though, but Cinder would notice anyone unexpected coming or going tonight and Roman was not going to ever let that bitch know she hurt Neo. It would have to wait until morning, so Roman needed to make sure Neo would be okay overnight. He took a glass from a drawer and placed it between her shoulder blades.

"Breathe deep for me, hold it, then let it out slowly."

Neo did. She winced, and it wasn't quite a full breath, but he didn't hear the tell-tale wheeze of fluid. Definitely cracked ribs though.

She signed to him.

Roman looked at her, then sighed. "No you didn't have me fooled."

She made another gesture.

"I knew right away Neo."

She frowned, and looked at him questioningly.

Roman sat across from her, and took one obviously dislocated finger, and quickly set it. She barely winced. "When you changed from battered to normal. When your cuts went away, there was no shatter from your semblance breaking."

Neo thought about it, and nodded. She asked another question.

"Of course Cinder didn't notice. If she did she would have killed you. Gods Neo I was fucking freaking out. You stepping in? That's fine." Roman made sure to gently touch her shoulder so she would look at him, "But picking that fight was stupid."

Neo looked pointedly at Roman's badly burned jacket. Roman followed her gaze, then nodded before she even asked her next question.

"Yeah, if it was you… if I didn't think you could defend yourself…" Roman shook his head. "Fuck. Okay. I get it. That doesn't mean we can let it happen again, but I get it."

Two people sat in silence for a few minutes and wondered what they were going to next. Neo tapped Roman to get him to look at her, and smiled a very Neo smile. Even if her face was still covered in blood. She signed him another question.

Roman took a moment before nodding, and even chuckling a little. "Yeah you can, but I want video of the fucker's face when you do."

Neo's battered face turned vicious. That smile honestly sent a wave of pure relief through Roman.

Roman touched her shoulder to regain her attention. "I'm going to pull some strings and get Junior's Club going a bit early."

Neo looked at Roman curiously. Then she put the pieces together and her frown became furious. She deliberately shook her head and pointed at Roman.

Roman grabbed her hands before she could start 'yelling' at him. The fact he managed to do this was its own example of just how exhausted and hurt Neo actually was was. He did get a nasty kick to the crotch though. So Neo's head was still in the game.

After pause to readjust his aura, Roman looked his friend carefully in the eye. "Neo, Cinder isn't going to forget what you did. Just like you won't forget what that punk did to you. Understand?"

Neo slowly, reluctantly nodded.

"I'm not waking up to find a pile of ash on my doorstep."

Neo sighed, frustrated, but she nodded again.

"Please lay low. I took care of myself for nearly thirty years before I met you."

Neo crossed her arms. A bloodied and battered girl who wasn't even four foot ten in her bare feet really shouldn't look as intimidating as she did. But Neo still managed a stare that caused Roman's palms to sweat.

Well that was as honest an appraisal as he could hope for from her. The appraisal hurt. It also felt good because it showed her concern. Roman valued it deeply. Roman pulled Neo to him though, and hugged her. She tensed, but eventually, decided to hug him back, and that had more value than all the fucking dust in Vale. Even in these circumstances.

"Neo. We're still in this together."

Roman felt dampness on his neck where Neo's face was as she nodded. Roman wanted to squeeze, but he also remembered her battered ribs. Probably a good thing he did.

Gently Roman pushed her back, "Still, partners or not, a bit of outside advice couldn't hurt right?"

The question she signed next was more or less rhetorical, and Roman laughed.

"I really don't care. How you decide to ask him is completely up to you."

* * *

 **Idiot's note.**

 **I doubt many here care, since this isn't my story and I am simply borrowing the stage from a better writer. Still I am going to take advantage of that stage. This story chapter here is more or less to help me get back into a mindset Volumes 6 and 7 beat out of me. So I will give my old writings a once over and get going again.**

 **As a personal note in these dangerous times, please be well and stay safe.**

 **Thank you for the stage Lefou.**


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